


Kinktober 2020 Collection

by DLManoir



Category: HAMLETMACHINE - Works, Hamlet Machine's work, Lucifer's Garden (comic), Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alpha Pirate, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel/Demon Relationship, Anthropomorphic, Aphrodisiacs, Asphyxiation, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bears, Bestiality, Big Bottom, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Body Horror, Body Worship, Bondage, Brother/Brother Incest, Camping, Car Sex, Centaurs, Cock Warming, Cockblocking, Cocksleeve, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Crossdressing, Deepthroating, Demon Sex, Demon/Human Relationships, Demonic Possession, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Edgeplay, Edging, Elves, Erotic Electrostimulation, Exhibitionism, Exorcisms, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Food Kink, Food Sex, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Forced Orgasm, Ghost Sex, Golden Age of Piracy, Guards, HamletMachine's work, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hellhounds, Historical, Historical References, Humiliation, Hypnotism, Impact Play, Incest, Invisibility, Invisible sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, Lace, Lace Panties, Lap Sex, Lapdance, Leather, Lingerie, Lucifer's Garden, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mirror Sex, Miscommunication, Mistaken Identity, Monster-fucker, Monsters, Multi, Murder, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Not Beta Read, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega, Omegaverse, Omegaverse Pirates, Omegaverse dynamics, Original Character(s), Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Pirates, Police Uniforms, Priests, Prince/Guard, Princes & Princesses, Public Sex, Puppy Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Royalty, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex in a Car, Shoes, Size Difference, Slime, Small top, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Sounding, Spanking, Spitroasting, Temperature Play, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest, Twinks, Uniform Kink, Uniforms, Urethral Play, Verbal Humiliation, Virginity, Wild Heat, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLManoir/pseuds/DLManoir
Summary: It's October! Which means Kinktober is back and I'm planning to make the most of it.If you're here for the very firstLucifer's Garden(by Hamlet Machine) fanfic on this platform, then head to chapter 12 once it's published. Please keep in mind that there will be no spoilers. This fanfic happens some timebeforethe events in the comic and it's unsure as of the date of publishing whether I've taken liberties or not. So assume I did.
Relationships: Moloch (Lucifer's Garden)/Elisah (Lucifer's Garden), Original Female Character/Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 69





	1. Day 1: Bondage (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: M/M, omegaverse, handcuffs, bondage

“Open your hands, baby,” Zachary said, his voice so soft it could hardly be heard over the low droning hum of the old refrigerator in the corner.

In one hand, he held a pair of thick nylon cuffs, the kind with the fleece lining that would make it easy on skin. In the other, he lifted Morgan’s face, keeping the man’s chin gently pinched between his index and forefinger, so he could look down into those twinkling hazel eyes.

Morgan obeyed, but his lips drew into a thin line with the edges slightly down-turned. Zach clicked his tongue, tutted this behaviour. _Bad behaviour._ Even so, he let it slip; he wouldn’t punish his pet for being honest and open about his feelings. No, Zach had been hard on him just earlier, with the spanking, and Morgan was reasonably indignant.

He ran his tongue over his pet’s bottom lip, licking his own as he imagined what it would feel like to kiss the other man. He could kiss him. Zach had all the power to command Morgan off of his knees and to capture those pretty frowning lips.

Yes. He had all the power here. Now. And Morgan’s body knew it better than he even did.

Zach cuffed his pet’s wrists together, his hands moving so very carefully, tightening the nylon just so. A tight fit. A snug fit. Gentle hands that yanked the man as roughly as they’d been soft moments before, pulling the bound wrists up by that fragile-looking chain. Morgan was brought to his feet and Zach could admire his body, as much with his eyes as with his one free hand. He touched every part of his slave, savoured every curve and dip and let his fingers rise and fall of every lean muscle. Every bit of Morgan he pinched and squeezed and stroked. Little perky nipples. Erect cock jutting straight from a thin patch of dark blond curls.

Oh, oh, oh. Yes. Now that cock he could tease and pull at. Pulling lightly at the shaft. Twisting softly around the head. Zach had nothing to ease his movements but the slight glistening pearls of translucent pre-cum, but that small fact didn’t seem to hinder Morgan’s pleasure as the man writhed in his hands between the languid jerking and the easy rubbing.

Zach pulled Morgan’s hands back, high up into the air and over his shoulder so that Morgan had no other choice but to rise to his toes and let his body fall forward against Zach’s chest. He wrapped a steadying arm around the low of Morgan’s back.

“Should we do the legs next?” he asked without truly questioning. No, his tone was firm. He wasn’t asking; he was warned, and it didn’t matter if Morgan wanted to or not.

“But,” Morgan started before catching himself.

Zach smiled, the kind of warm, gentle smile he would show a lover perhaps. They were lovers. Outside of this room, upstairs, they were lovers. But here, in this room, they would not be lovers for as long as Morgan remained naked and collared. They were master and pet, and as a pet, Morgan was to remember his manners, heed his master’s orders, and never speak unless addressed. And goodness gracious would Zach be damned to Hell if he didn’t think of Morgan as a well-mannered pet when he begged with those sweet eyes.

“May I speak, Master,” Morgan asked with a bat of those thick lashes of his.

Zach nodded. “You may.”

“Won’t it be hard for me to walk?”

At that moment, Zachary considered sending Morgan back down to his knees. After all, the man was right; if his ankles were cuffed just as his wrists were, he’d have trouble walking, and what sort of master would he be if he forced his pet into walking uncomfortably like that? Surely, he wasn’t a bad master.

“You won’t need to walk if I have my way with you,” Zach said. He guided Morgan into an embrace, pulling his pet’s bound hands over his head until the chain pulled at the nape of his neck. He leaned down and caught those lips with his own.

Zach didn’t have to kiss. Not really. Not when Morgan was so eager and invested in their scene. His mouth was lazy, the pressure a little bit too great. Morgan pulled himself up to push against him, slipping him the tongue while he suckled, lapped, tasted. His pet tasted of the wine they’d had a little earlier, and he figured he tasted no less fruity, having shared a glass of alcohol just the same. His pet moaned and Zach swallowed it.

When they broke apart, Morgan slid his hand over Zach’s head and shuffled a few steps back until the bed came up to the back of his knee. He fell onto his rear with a slight bounce and a mute _oof!_ His large eyes stared inquisitively, unsure, yet trusting. Zach wouldn’t hurt him.

“Give me your feet, baby,” he said after fetching the matching pair of ankle cuffs to go with the handcuffs. Morgan obeyed and Zach wrapped the constraints just as carefully as he’d done at first.

He had to kneel before his pet to bind the ankles, and now that he was done, Zach stared calmly at the man sitting in front of him for any signs of discomfort. _Real discomfort._ “How do they feel?” he asked. He eased a finger between fabric and skin but found it too tight to do so.

“It feels okay, Master…”

“Good,” Zach said, pleased.

Now, he pushed on his pet’s chest to force him down on his back, on the bed. Morgan crawled back towards the headboard without any help from Zach who followed slowly after him, climbing onto his knees and hands like a predator ready to pounce. When Morgan didn’t have any more to go anymore, he stopped to give Zach the opportunity to kiss him again, fiercely this time, stopping only once they were both breathless, lips thick with arousal, and their cocks rubbing together between the two of them. A sticky string of pre-cum stuck to the front of his pants and dangled with a great arch.

The kiss was broken only long enough for them to catch their breath before they resumed with frantic pleasure. While they kissed passionately, Zach took Morgan’s bound wrists and worked them securely by another chain. Then it was Morgan’s knees he tied by lifting the man’s ass, folding him in half, and wrapping sisal rope to forcibly bend his pets in half.

Morgan was made most vulnerable with his limbs tied and pulled taut and his hole impossible to hide as it twitched with anticipation.

“Master,” Morgan whispered.

Zach didn’t answer and Morgan let his head fall back when he felt Zach finally in position, kneeling in front of his pet’s entrance. Morgan gasped and his chest rose and fell with a low, long moan of satisfaction when Zach breached his hole with his middle finger.

He teased at the rim. Pushed in a little and then pulled out quickly. He caressed his pet’s taint, rolled the balls in the palm of his hand. He even jerked Morgan’s cock before travelling, down again and to force his finger back into that tight heat. “You’re so fucking tight, Morgan,” he said as he began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never wavering as he watched his pet become delirious with pleasure. He wanted to see all of the faces Morgan would make. He inserted another finger and it joined the one already inside of Morgan who yelped without meaning to.

Zach quickly shushed Morgan, but he didn’t stop. “I’ll take good care of you, Morgan,” he said with warmth. Oh, yes, he’d take good care of his pet.

He curled his fingers into Morgan and felt about the velvety for a bundle of nerves. He knew he found it by the screech for indulgence that left his pet’s mouth—along with a string of curses. Zach rubbed at Morgan’s prostate and he writhed, whimpered, and gasped.

 _“Uuuuuuhhh… God, please! Ah! Mmmmm… ”_ Morgan moaned.

“Make sure you tell me when you’re about to cum,” Zach said, but it seemed as if his command fell on deaf ears. It only took a few moments more, which he was grateful for because his wrist started suffering the consistent strain before Morgan finally blew his load across his stomach. He pumped his pet’s cock with languid, slow to squeeze the last lazy eruption of semen. “There,” Zach drawled with mirth. By then, his cock had already begun to soften.

“Now, time for me to take care of you properly.”


	2. Day 2: Uniforms (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: M/M, BDSM elements - Master/pet, erotic electrostimulation, omegaverse, cumming untouched, blowjobs and possibly a disappearing beer!

It was raining again. Sunny Hill hated September for how much it rained. Almost every single day. He couldn’t think of anything more depressing than thirty days of consecutive rain. A gross exaggeration when he thought back on a specific dispatch call he’d received today.

The poor girl…

There was little for Sunny to do from the woman and her daughter, no matter how evident and critical their situation appeared to be. The girl’s father was allowed his visitations and it would remain as such until a judge decided otherwise, or the man disowned his own daughter. The best he could do was stop the fight that broke out between the girl’s father and her mother’s new… roommate?

Sunny grumbled as he unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. The more he thought about their stories, the more convoluted the entire thing became. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was home.

“Ruby,” he called from the entrance, “I’m home, babe.”

No answer.

“Ruby?”

He didn’t bother with taking his shoes or uniform off. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. He walked into an empty living room where all of the lights were turned off and everything was put away and tidy. “Ruby?” He checked the kitchen, but aside from a note on the fridge, which clearly told him that his girlfriend had gone out to run a couple of errands, he was alone. The note read:

> _ I’m going out for a little bit. Be back for dinner. _
> 
> _ Don’t burn the place down and don’t eat without me. _
> 
> _ I love you. _
> 
> _ -xxx- Ruby _
> 
> _ PS: I left you a gift in the bedroom. _

His face pinched with an amused curiosity at the note. He placed the note down onto the counter and decided that he would first treat himself to a nice, cold beer from the fridge. He got one as planned, twisted the cap off, and pulled a long sip of the liquid. He looked back to the note.

“A gift for me, huh?” he said to no one in particular.

He took the note and beer with him as he moved silently through the apartment, to his bedroom. Strange as it may be, when he stopped by the closed door of their bedroom, he heard the low, steady thrumming of a buzz of some sort. A humming noise similar to that of a cell phone on vibrate. Sunny eased the door open as quietly as he could have it and his bottom jaw fell.

A man lay in his bed, the same bed he shared with Ruby Anderson, but Sunny knew this person as the Alpha Adam Robertson.

Adam was bound to the bed by the wrists and ankles, his limbs spread-eagle at the four corners of the mattress, naked as a newborn. A blindfold covered his eyes and by the look of the gag in his mouth, Sunny supposed Ruby had made him take her strap-on which she cleverly secured at the back of his head. Most surprising, however, was the gear attached to his cock, little stickers hooked to a machine Sunny knew all too well.

_ Erotic electrostimulation. _

He liked this gift, but perhaps he would like it more if… He strode to the bed, careful to step as silently as he could to avoid tipping off the Alpha as to his presence.

Adam’s chest kept rising and falling with the occasional whimpers when the shocks made his rock hard cock twitch. Sunny devoured the sight of him, of that lush forest of black curls over the Alpha’s chest, those perky pink nipples partially swallowed by the thick bush of chest hair. He resisted the urge to touch right away -- Adam hadn’t noticed him yet and he wanted to keep it as such. His eyes trailed lower. Adam’s abs. His naval. The trimmed but coarse hairs from which a thick, leaking cock jutted from. Heavy balls that looked so full they might burst. Ruby also put a sticker onto the Alpha’s ballsack and that almost made Sunny want to pity the man.

He smirked and, finally, he answered the itch in his fingers and reached to touch the glistening tip of the Alpha’s cock. This one gave a great flinch out of surprise. Adam threw his head side to side, as if he meant to remove the blindfold. He might even succeed. So Sunny twisted his fist around the head of the organ. Adam kicked his head back, his hold body lurching forward, back bowed off of the mattress, toes curling.

Every noise he tried to make, and it seemed Adam had quite a bit to say, was muffled by the strap-on in his mouth. Sunny didn’t pity the man, but he felt himself grow dark, almost cruel. He relinquished his hold on the cock, to the Alpha’s displeasure, and he instead removed the gag.

“Please, Ruby, let me cum!” Adam coughed, nearly choked, the very moment the gag was removed from his mouth. “Please! Please! Oh, God, please! I can’t take it anymore!”

Sunny considered letting his suffering go on, but after a moment of incessant pleas, he finally shushed Adam by pressing a finger to the Alpha’s lips. Adam caught on quickly that Ruby was nowhere in sight and he would have to make do with him. Wasn’t he a better match for him than Ruby could ever hope to be anyway? He was an Omega, and there was nothing more natural than an Alpha and Omega couplings.

“Shhh,” Sunny said. When Adam was quiet for a few seconds, Sunny moved his hand to instead caress the Alpha’s smooth cheek. “Ruby gave you to me for the time being, Adam.”

Sunny’s words didn’t quite seem to reach Adam who’s mouth twisted.

“What’re you talking about?” Adam asked.

“Ruby wants us to play. You’re my gift. She told me so herself,” he said.

He moved away from the Alpha’s face then, trailing the tips of his fingers down the long, strong body, and brought himself back to the cock. He started off with turning the machine off, without removing the stickers, and then moved around the bed to unbind the man’s ankles and wrists. Adam quickly sat up and tore at the blindfold. Sunny’s eyes immediately found his.

“Where’s Ruby?” Adam asked.

“Out, running some errands,” Sunny answered.

“And she gave me, to you, to play with?”

“Says so on the note.” Sunny handed the small sheet of paper for Adam to inspect. He only looked at it shortly before he decided it was legitimate. His expression finally softened enough that Sunny could smile expectantly.

“Alright, then,” Adam said calmly. “So, we’re supposed to play together?”

“Will you play with me?” Sunny asked and the question seemed to leave the Alpha perplexed.

“Depends on what kind of game you have in mind.”

Sunny’s smile widened. He stepped next to the machine, backing three steps away from the bed, and signalled for Adam to come to him. The Alpha obeyed effortlessly and immediately assumed position, on his heels, knees far apart, and his hands clasped behind his neck. Ruby was an expert trainer.

“Good,” he said, meaning it.

He held a shoed foot forward. Adam stared at it for a long time before he finally looked up at Sunny. He didn’t know what to do or what he should ask for. “I want you to undress me with your mouth, pet. Start with my shoes.”

Adam’s face twisted with a bizarre expression, but he quickly recovered and bent down to press his mouth to the top of the leather shoe. He was clumsy and inexperienced. It took him quite a bit of effort to catch a single shoelace. When he managed to take the shoe off, Sunny could see the apprehension in his eyes. Was he hesitant about taking his socks off? Sunny did that himself but otherwise presented his other foot. This time, however, when Adam took too long, he turned the machine back on.

Adam’s body jerked, convulsed, as the machine shocked his.  _ “Uhn! Ah! W-wait, Sunny!” _

“Pet, pet, pet…” Sunny tutted in feigned disapproval. “You call me like that again and you’ll have yourself a spanking. You best learn your place if you don’t want me to teach it to you. You’ll call me Master or Sir.

“Now, finish up with my shoes!”

Adam nodded tamely before he brought his lips to the leather again. He worked his tongue around the laces, trying to pinch it between his teeth. He tried hard to please Sunny, but he simply wasn’t efficient enough.

Maybe it was the excitement that stole Sunny’s usually demure composure during play, or perhaps he was truly displeased with the man’s slow, clumsy performance. He did his best not to let either show, not to discourage his --  _ pet _ . Sunny could call Adam his pet. Still, he felt the punishment was deserved and he knew from Ruby that a good Master wasn’t one who hesitated. He turned the knobs on the machine and it emitted a sharp clank which tapered into a low hum.

_ “Ah! S-Sunny! F-fuck, turn it -- nnngh!” _ Adam gasped and his hips bucked hard, cock twitching uncontrollably. A thick stream of clear fluid oozed from the tip.

“Master, Adam,” Sunny was quick to correct his pet. “You call me Master.” His voice was sharp, which surprised him. Even more surprising to him was the flutter he felt in his body as he watched the Alpha grind his cock against the wooden floor like some pathetic dog. Sunny was enjoying this, enjoying the control he had over this Alpha who could, if Adam so wished it, overthrow him. Adam was submitting, though. Willingly. An Alpha submitting to an Omega. He scoffed and turned the knobs back down until his pet could still himself.

“My shoes,” he said.

“Y-yes, master…”

Eventually, his shoes did come off. Sunny took his own socks off and stood in front of his pet who kneeled at his feet and looked up at him.

“Stand up,” Sunny said.

Adam obeyed, although his legs seemed fragile. His thighs were visibly trembling and his cock, after suffering a few more shocks at Sunny’s whims, was flushed and leaking almost profusely now. Surely, turning the machine on again he was still wired to it would make his knees buckle.

“Undress me,” Sunny said as he held his arms up. Adam stared at him confusedly for a moment, but he didn’t ask questions. “You can use your hands for this.”

His sweater was removed first. Adam handled him just as he would a child and with all the gentleness of a doting parent. Sunny didn’t appreciate his pet forgetting his place, but he said nothing of it. His tactical vest was revealed, along with the rest of him, just as the sweater was dropped carelessly on the ground.

Sunny’s shoulders tensed at that. “Oh, no you’re not!” he said, “You will not just throw things about randomly!”

“Huh?” Adam stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Pick up that sweater and fold it properly.”

Adam’s lips parted a little, surely to ask a stupid question, but he decided against it and moved to comply with Sunny’s command. He folded the garment neatly, just how Sunny liked his clothes folded which impressed and pleased the Omega. He then handed it to Sunny who placed it on the armchair behind him.

Sunny’s vest was next and he watched his pet with rapt attention the whole time. His stare was purposely intense and he could see the shifting eyes trying not to glance at him. Adam was taller than him and certainly larger than he was, but here, the Alpha appeared small as he worked silently to figure out the tactical vest. It was thick, made Sunny look a lot broader than he really was, and it had four velcros and a zipped to unfasten. It slipped from his shoulders, and already he felt some ten pounds lighter.

“Good boy,” Sunny said as he took his vest and placed it on top of his folded sweater.

Adam seemed to wait for further instructions, but when Sunny nodded for him to continue, the Alpha obliged.

Sunny held his breath just as he was certain Adam had. A fair distance separated them when Adam began unbuttoning his chemise with trembling, overly-eager hands. He had to step closer to do as Sunny wanted him to do, and then put the both of them in one hell of a predicament.

Adam was no more than a fling in Sunny’s eyes. Ruby had taken a liking to him because he’d taken a liking to her during a makeup competition they were both competing in, and Sunny could see why. There was no denying Adam’s charm as a gentle, willing to please Alpha. The man was also incredibly attractive with a mop of ebony hair that curled around his ears and those blue eyes. Striking. And now that he could see it from up close, there was a certain youth to the Alpha’s features.

_ And that intoxicating mixture of arousal and sweat, along with the faint remnants of cologne… _

“You smell good, pet,” Sunny said softly. His eyes devoured the expanse of unmarred skin from just beneath Adam’s ear to the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Adam said nothing.

Half of his buttons were undone when Sunny touched the Alpha’s elbow to guide the man’s hand back to his chest. Hesitation punctuated the moment.

“Can I…” Adam swallowed thickly. “Can I touch you?”

“Only my nipples and only if you can keep undressing me.” Sunny’s voice was husky and he released a shaky breath when a large hand pressed against his skin, groping, squeezing his pectorals, kneading him in all the best of ways.

It was clear that Adam struggled with the next button. He was far too invested in tweaking his nipple. So Sunny decided he could take matters into his own hand.

With one hand, he took the Alpha’s erect cock and stroked it languidly, pulling at the stickers until Adam hissed, and loving every whimper and the frantic bucking rubbing the head with a tight grip earned him. With his other hand, Sunny ran his fingers through the black locks, grabbing a firm handful at the back of the head, and forced the taller man down so he could press his nose to the very source of the heady scent which so enthralled him and lay teasing bites on flesh which had never before been claimed. When Adam tried to do the same, Sunny tightened his grip over the man’s hair and pulled hard, forcing him to face the other way.

“Do you want to cum, pet?” he asked.

“Yes!” Adam answered breathily.

Sunny turned the knob to the machine only a little, just to bring Adam a bit of sensation. Judging by the startled yelp, it seemed, however, even as little sensation as that, along with the returning steady jerk of his hand, should be torture.

“If you want to cum,” Sunny said, “You’re going to have to undress me quick.”

Those few words seemed to light something vicious in the Alpha who pushed him back, knocking the armchair aside, and pulling the machine still connected to the cock, until his back hit the wall hard. The sudden shift dazed him a little, and so he didn’t react when Adam tore his chemise, sending the last three or four buttons flying. He was also crushed between the wall and the bigger body and his head were forced to the side when the Alpha nuzzled against his throat.

_ Don’t bite! Don’t bite! Don’t bite! _ Thankfully, Adam didn’t bite him, simply inhaled him while roughly tugging at his belt until it somehow came undone. This wasn’t what Sunny had meant when he told Adam to undress him quickly, but he didn’t push him away. Oh, he could have. Sunny wasn’t as big as the Alpha, but he could neutralize the man if he truly wanted to.

He didn’t want to neutralize Adam, didn’t want to even try slowing him down.

In fact, Sunny found himself going along with his pet’s frantic handling. He squeezed the base of the Alpha’s cock to keep him from spilling his seed and jerked the length with fast, tight strokes to match those graceless hips thrusting into his fist. The stickers pulled at the skin when his fingers caught the wires, which made Adam groan against his neck. By the time the front of his pants flew open and a strong hand grabbed him through his briefs, his own hand was already covered in sticky pre.

“Looks like you’re hard, Officer Hill,” Adam said, his voice nothing but a low whisper.

Sunny tilted his hips forward into the touch and closed his eyes to let his mind fall away as the fire in his belly slowly became all-consuming. “Don’t feel like playing master and pet anymore?” he asked, but Adam didn’t answer his question.

“Let me suck you off,” Adam said instead.

“Hmmm.”

_ “Please, Officer.” _

“Not a fan of roleplaying my job, Adam.” If his pet was going to break away from their play, then so would he. He truly wasn’t fond of it. Being a cop was work. Each and every day. Playing was about finding release, not just sexually but mentally as well. Roleplaying cop and robber wasn’t a hard limit or anything, but it didn’t quite turn him on either.

“Your cock isn’t opposed to it,” Adam pushed, but he regretted his words when Sunny gripped his cock with a vice-like grip and made him hiss.

“You’re breaking character, Adam,” Sunny said sharply, without compromise, “And you’re interfering with  _ my _ play. Or did you forget that Ruby left you here for  _ me _ to play with?”

That seemed to subdue this sudden rebellious outburst from his pet who promptly softened.

“On your knees, pet.”

Adam obeyed quickly, but he wasn’t praised for his fast compliance. No. He’d been impudent when Sunny had offered him a bit of freedom. He’d taken advantage of his Master’s gracious allowance and was now to be punished for his behaviour.

Sunny pushed his briefs down, and while they clung to his thighs, just right so that it supported the weight of his half chub, his slacks dropped to his ankles. He touched the underside of his pet’s chin and aligned himself with his mouth, which took the length of his cock with eager willfulness. When Adam gagged around him, Sunny paused for but a breath before he forced the Alpha’s head. He stopped when the nose reached his pubes and he waited until the strained look on his pet’s face eased before he started moving.

“Open your throat, pet,” he said with a long groan. “Yes… like that.”

He moved slowly at first, kindly offering the Alpha the time he needed to get used to his side, but when he grew weary of waiting, his thrusts became forceful and decided. He moved in and out of the wet heat until his hips bucked of their own volition.

“D-don’t bite… mmm! Don’t use your… teeth,” he said between laboured breaths.

Adam sputtered around him. By then, the Alpha’s hands had come up to grab his ass for purchase as Sunny fucked his mouth. He jerked against the grip which held him just so for the Omega’s cock to pound and throb over his tongue, between his sore jaw, when the shocks grew in strength. The tempo also changed from the constant, even buzz to a series of quick shocks gradually increasing in intensity until they seized him completely when they reached their peak, before returning to a feather-light buzz. It grew and grew. Shocking him harder just as the pleasure mounted him higher. Higher still as he struggled to breathe around the cock in his mouth. His eyes rolled back when he came, shooting hard in front of him, sending his spend splattering against the wall. 

Just then, Sunny spilled himself down Adam’s throat with a shout. “God! Fuck! Cumming -- mmm!” He pushed the Alpha back, pushed his mouth off of him so he could jerk two ropes of thick cum onto his pet’s blissed-out face.

“S-Sunny!”

He slammed his hand down onto the machine to turn it off and Adam groaned in his afterglow. Sunny let his head fall back against the wall while his hands and thighs trembled. The room was silent, save for their mixed breathing. Adam’s head fell against his thigh, sweaty and heavy, and Sunny caressed the Alpha.

Adam’s voice finally broke the silence, but it was small and unsure as if he meant to ask for permission to speak, “Master?”

“Yeah?” Sunny breathed.

“Did you like your gift?” he asked hoarsely.

“You were the best damn gift I’ve had in a long time, pet.”

He felt what he thought might have been a smile forming against his thigh, but Adam replaced it with a kiss.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked.

“A little.”

“How long were you left on the bed, pet?” he asked.

“I don’t know… Ruby left at three.”

Sunny looked at the clock on the nightstand and cringed. It flashed 5:55PM.  _ Almost three hours! _ That was an incredibly long time for a pet to be left alone the way Adam had been left alone. And to think that, after all that time, he’d only gotten to come once. “How do you feel, pet?”

“Good,” Adam answered simply.

“No, I mean how do you  _ feel? _ ” Sunny reiterated. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you sore?”

“My dick hurts,” Adam finally said, “A little… Because of the shocks.”

Sunny bent down to inspect his pet. His cock looked fine, if a little red, but it was softening now, and if Adam said it hurt, he would avoid touching it. He kissed Adam on the mouth, pleased to find the Alpha leaning into him, and delighted by the taste of his spend on the other man’s tongue. It was a short, but loving kiss, and Sunny pressed their foreheads together when they stopped kissing.

“You worked really hard for me today, didn’t you?”

Adam didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to pour you a bath and we’re going to clean you up,” he said softly, “After that, how do you feel about ordering some Chinese food?”

“I’m starving. Chinese food sounds amazing,” Adam said.

“I bet. And we can pop a bottle of wine while we’re eating, maybe put on a movie and I can wrap you up in the most delicious burrito to have ever lived.”

Adam chuckled softly. “You’re treating me like an Omega now.”

“Would you like that?” Sunny asked.

A long silence stretched between them as Adam seemed to work through his own thoughts. Finally, the Alpha said, “I’d like that. Yeah…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see the disappearing beer? Yes, I know. I'm not sorry. I have 31 short stories to come up with for each day of the month and this one was over 3k words long. I don't even proofread these. They're not beta'd and I don't let myself spend too much time on them. Beers are bound to disappear! Let's just pray and hope they make it safe to wherever they're headed.


	3. Day 3: Foot Fetish (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: F/M/M, foot fetish, hypnotism, non-con, blowjobs, foot jobs, deepthroating, orgasm denial, cum eating

_ Akeem and Sokari. Their eyes are defiant and full of something dark, _ Nabila’s eyes narrowed at the thought and she hissed long and soft at the twin boys kneeling in front of her. They were finally behaving, but she could still see their scruffs raising up at the back of their necks when their eyes darted to each other. They must have thought that she wouldn’t see them with their shifty gray eyes, but she saw them alright.

Finally, she sighed. “I don’t feel like counselling two childish little boys today.” 

“I’m no boy, snake-woman!” Akeem growled. His words were full of contempt for the beastwoman Fakhir had left them with, but he reserved his fiery temper for his brother whom he thought he might hate more than Nabila.

“You might as well be with how selfish you are!” Sokari was quick to quip back at Akeem.

And just like that, the two brothers returned to arguing. Their large ears drew forth and the fur on their tails puffed up, both in a show of dominance when neither wanted to submit. Their bickering became tedious for Nabila who pinched the bridge of her nose while she waited for them to settle on their own. She gave them a chance, at least.

“Enough,” she hissed, but the twins didn’t pay attention to her by the softness of her tone. Any more arguing than that and she thought they might lash out at each other. She stood finally and stomped her way between the twins. “I said: enough of this—sss! Shut up! The both of you!” She grabbed the boys by the scruffs of their neck and yanked them back to a pile of cushions where she begrudgingly forced them to sit so their shoulders touched. She raised her finger and spoke slowly, accentuating each of her words as she did so. “I don’t want to hear a s—sss—ingle word from either of you.”

The twins looked at each other, their expressions a mix of disgust, disdain, and derision, but they were silent. They scooted away from one another and Nabila allowed it for now. She could see now that the twins were still too raw and hurt to settle their differences like the grown men they pretended to be. Twenty-one years old children is what they were.

Nabila left them on their pile of pillows and moved to stand by the five-pronged candelabra. She lit the candles. One by one. Slowly as she only did so when the twins’ eyes watched her. Captivating their attention like this was easy; they still reacted to their trigger.

“Look at me, Sokari,” she said softly just before she lit the candle.

Sokari was the most likely of the two to fight the hypnotic influence the flame had over him, and yet he was also more likely to fall into a deeper trance than his brother. Even so, his eyes glazed over at the sight of the fifth flame.

_ The flickering, wavering and dancing flame. _

_ Flickering, wavering and dancing. _

_ Flickering. Wavering. Dancing. _

_ Flickering. _

_ Wavering. _

_ Dancing. _

_ Everything else fell away. _

_ Finally, _ Nabila thought,  _ a moment of quiet. _ She could hardly hear herself think over the echoes of muttered insults between the brothers.

She considered the now-silent, waiting twins and what she might have them do. The way they were now, Nabila could do whatever she thought might please her. What had she not done, she wondered, to humiliate these boys further? They had no conscious recollection of the things done to them while they were both hypnotized. She bit her bottom lip as the twins waited, with their blank faces, for her to command them.

“Come here, Akeem,” she said to the boy who reacted immediately. She led him back to her nest of cushions and blankets where she sat while he stood in front of her.

Nabila’s hands went to Akeem’s waist, her fingers finding the edges of his pants which she pulled down until they fell around his ankles. “You know what your problem is, darling?” She didn’t expect Akeem to answer. Not when she asked him a question which he couldn’t answer, not when she took his cock into her hands. “Your problem, Akeem, is that you can’t cum.”

She watched as her words became truth to the boy as his body unknowingly reacted to her touches. She stroked him. _Up and down. Up and down._ _From tip to base. And base to tip._ Save for the slight stutter in Akeem’s breath when her hand passed over the head of his hardening cock, he seemed oblivious.

"Can you tell me what your problem is, baby?" Nabila asked.

Akeem's breathing was steady. He didn’t even blink at her question. His belly twitched once when Nabila squeezed the head of his cock. “I… can’t cum,” he droned monotonously.

“Yes, that’s right. You can’t cum, Akeem.”

Nabila then called for Sokari who came at once and motioned for him to kneel next to his brother. She held his chin in her hand, lifting his face to stare down into the dull gray of his eyes. “It’s been so long since you’ve drunk cum, Sokari, hasn’t it?” The boy said nothing. “How long has it been, darling? A day? A month? A year? You must be parched! And to think that your brother won’t even let you drink from him…”

Sokari swallowed thickly.

“Yes—sss,” she drawled, “You’re so thirsty, you’d do anything for a drink.”

A light flashed in the boy’s eyes, a sort of passing thought which was intelligible, before the dull haze in his stare returned. He was processing her words, making them true, and accepted the sudden thirst ruling over him.

Nabila’s lips stretched into a serpent’s grin. Fakhir expected her to “fix” his boys when, in reality, they were perfect as they were. Perfectly obedient. Easy to mold.

“Lay down, Akeem. On your back,” she said and her command was immediately executed. She looked to Sokari who waited for her to command him. “Why don’t you see about sucking a drink out of your brother? He can’t fight you, darling. Go on. The only way you get to drink cum is if you s—sss—uck a hard cock.”

It took him a moment to process this information. His eyes drifted from Nabila’s face to her nethers, and then to his own as if he considered his options before he turned to his brother. Sokari hesitated, but once his eyes caught onto Akeem’s stiff cock, his body moved without thinking. The way Sokari swallowed his brother surprised even Nabila. He took the entire length with, it seemed, little difficulty, and bobbed his head eagerly without missing a beat.

If what Fakhir had told her about the twins was true, then it would make sense that these boys knew a thing or two about the pleasures of each others’ flesh. They were…  _ How had Fakhir said it? Ah, yes—sss. Mates. _ Although the bond between them was now strained; Akeem had become an insatiable beast of lusting, whereas Sokari had grown weary of his brother’s advances.

She doubted any of this would help them overcome their shared trauma, but it was certainly entertaining, and it beat hearing them quarrelling like children. She preferred obedient fennec foxes.

However, Nabila’s mood only soured as she watched Sokari drool on his brother’s cock while Akeem merely laid there. Immobile. Unresponsive.  _ Quiet. _ He didn’t moan despite Sokari’s evidently practiced mouth. His hips didn’t buck. He was a lifeless doll, empty and thoughtless.

“Akeem,” she said before she could think of a command. Her eyes peered about her shack in search of something which might inspire her next move. As luck would have it, she found exactly that in the candelabra and its five candles. Still burning. The flames still flickering, wavering, dancing. She stood and returned to it. Akeem watched her with his empty gaze. “I’m going to blow these candles out one by one, and I want your consciousness to return a little bit more with each dying flame. When I blow the last one, your mind will have returned to you in full, but your body will still be kept firmly in its trance. A trance you won’t be able to break away from unless I tell you to.”

She waited a moment for her words to sink in and took her time to admire Sokari’s undying eagerness to fuck his own mouth over his brother’s cock. Then, without warning, she blew the first candle out.

Akeem’s reaction was mild; his eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back and his abs tightened. The boy’s breath quickened.

Nabila blew out a second candle.

_ “Ahhh… mmm…” _ The softest of gasps, cutest little mewls escaped past Akeem’s lips. He tilted his head from side to side now and his hands balled into fists. He appeared to be trying to move his hips, but he only managed to writhe and twist.

A third flame went out, and with it went the relative silence.

Akeem’s lips fell open and he moaned long and needy sounds. His hips rose from the ground and into the waiting mouth.  _ In and out. In and out. _ Messy slurping, lewd squelching, and wanton cries echoed off of the walls. Even so, Akeem showed no sign of intelligible thinking.  _ “Uuuuuuuuuhhhhh! Aaaahhh… Ah! Uhn! Uhn! Uuuuuuhhhhuuhhhhhh…” _

Nabila blew on a fourth flame which died in a cloud of black smoke.

_ “O-oh! Wha—mmm! What is… uuuuuhhh… ffffffuck!” _ Akeem’s consciousness was returning. A slew of curses left the boy’s mouth, each interrupted by panting gasps and pleasured groans. His body bucked, all of him, but he still seemed to have no control over his limbs. Even so, he clawed at the wooden floors underneath him. His back bowed off of the floor and his hips were now thrusting fast enough that Sokari no longer had to bob his head, although he still did.

She held her breath on the last candle, watched and revelled in Akeem’s awakening. She smiled through all of it. He was awake now, as one might argue, but she knew that he wouldn’t be completely himself until she blew out that very last candle.

_ “Ooooooh, G-Gods! Please…” _ Did he even know what he was begging for? Did he even understand what was happening to him?  _ “Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhh… Mhmmm! Please! Fuck! Uuuuhn!” _

Nabila blew on the last candle.

The flame snapped sharply, flickered faintly as it clung to the wick. Then it was smoke. A wavering cloud of carbon dancing into a thin string. The remnants of the visible smog were blown away, vanishing as Nabila chased after its dark tail with her breath.

_ “Sokari!” _ Akeem shouted and his lips moved to say something else, but his words died with a choked moan the boy tried to suppress. He threw his hands into his brother’s hair, grabbing fistfuls of the sandy blond locks to yank, but he found himself unable to push Sokari away. His brother wasn’t resisting him, however. No. Akeem’s strength left him whenever he tried to push his brother’s mouth off of him. And then, before he could process this, his cock plunged deep into his brother’s throat, warm and wet, and quivering around him. He thought he’d cum right there and then. He should have cum. His body seized and shameful, bedroom noises escaped from him.

_ “I-I’m—nnnnngh! Uuuuhhh… Cum… Cumming… Ahhh! Ahn! Fuck,” _ he groaned and writhed helplessly.  _ “What’s going—uuuuuuhhhhhhuhh! Fuck, Sokari! G-get off… mmmmmngh…” _

Akeem reached the peak of his pleasures, but he couldn’t cum.

And Sokari wouldn’t stop sucking him. Sucking him with that mouth of his— _ fuck! _ If, by some unknown force, they ever decided to leave Fakhir’s gang of bandits, they’d make their fortune selling Sokari’s blowjobs. No doubt those would make them famous.

“Akeem,” Nabila called out, drawing the boy’s attention before his eyes rolled back again. She was content with the way he thrust his hips, with the desperation and labour in his cries and movements. He was trying to cum, but alas, until she gave him the permission, he’d be made to perpetually chase after his climax. “Do you want to cum, darling?”

_ “Cum? What’re you—nnnnngh!! Aaaaah… F-fuck yes! Yes, please!” _

Nabila chuckled. She returned to her plush nest and in a moment of devilish, serpentine wit, she devised a most humiliating plan:

She pulled Sokari back and commanded the twins to stay still. Sokari settled on his heels, eyes firmly locked onto the spit-shined cock, lips swollen and glistening and parted in patient hunger. Clearly, the eldest twin wasn’t sated with the mere taste of pre-cum mingled with frotting saliva. On the other hand, Akeem protested vehemently against Nabila’s commands, and yet for all the fight he put up, he remained exactly where he was. On his back. Cock erect.

“Do you want to cum, darling?” she asked again.

This time, Akeem glared at her. “No! I want you to let me go! And let my brother go!”

Not quite the answer Nabila was hoping for, but she was a patient woman. She leaned back and stretched her right leg out until her scally foot touched the boy’s cock. Akeem flinched, or tried to, away from her.

“What d’you think you’re doing, snake?” he growled, indignant, “Don’t touch me with your filthy feet!”

“Shhh, darling. You s—sss—peak too much.”

And just like that, Akeem’s mouth slammed shut and his voice was stolen from him. He could squirm and wriggle when she grabbed his tip with her toes, but he couldn’t get away from her as she rubbed his cock between her toes. He was thankful for the dry, cool sensation forced onto him because he didn’t have to feel this excruciating pleasure endlessly mounting in him. He could finally calm down, and perhaps even ignore it altogether if he closed his eyes. But Nabila wouldn’t allow him such a cheap reprieve.

“Doesn’t it feel good, darling?” she asked.

Akeem didn’t answer. He wanted to. He wanted to say that it didn’t feel good, that the cold was jarring. The sibilant voice saying, “You speak too much,” played over and over again, though, and he was mute. She could see the disdain in his eyes, but it didn’t deter her.

“Yes… This feels amazing,” she said. Even if Akeem didn’t want it to be, her words became true the very moment she uttered them. He groaned as she continued. “It kind of feels like… a blow job. A deep, wet, mes—sss—sy blow job. Deep throating. Up. down. Up. Down.” His eyes followed the movements of her foot as she spoke. “Up. Down. Sucking hard. Up. Down. Wet and deep. Up. Down. So tight…”

She continued, but Akeem’s ears began to ring and his eyes rolled back.  _ Oh, Gods, no! _ The tight coils in his belly were coming back. Hot pleasure quickly welling, swirling, burning into his flesh. When he closed his eyes, he could see Sokari slobbering on his cock, slaving away to please him, but the reality was much too grim for him to dare the disappointment of reverie.

_ Up. Sucking hard. Down. _

_ Up. Wet and deep. Down. _

_ Up. So tight. Down. _

_ “Mmmmrrrhhh… Uuuuuuuuhhhhhh…” _ This felt too good for him to keep his voice down, and though he clenched his jaws, Nabila had said something his conscious mind hadn’t caught onto, but his subconscious did, and now he couldn’t quite decide whether he loved the shape of her feet or not. His cock was a perfect fit between her toes and her scales were so smooth that they glided up and down— _ up and down, up and down, up and down _ —his shaft with such ease. And when her toes curled around the head of his leaking cock, squeezing him, he could swear he would burst.

“Do you want to come, darling?” she asked, and her voice did reach him this time.

_ “Yes! Yes! Oh, Gods, yes! Please! Make me cum! Please!” _ Akeem moaned fervently.

“Then cum for me, darling. Cum hard. Give it all to me.”

Akeem’s body went rigid and he came with a shout, his seed spilling from between Nabila’s cold toes. His orgasm swept him like a tidal wave, but Akeem felt none of it as it wiped his consciousness and made him see white.

He came back to his senses to a vicious stabbing pain to witness his brother sucking the cum out of him. He tried to move, but he was still entranced by the beastwoman.

“S—sss—okari, darling.” Nabila beckoned the older twin to her. She signalled to her semen-coated foot and Sokari brought his mouth to it without even needing to be instructed to. He licked and sucked, bathed her reverently until he’d swallowed all he could have swallowed. And then he lapped at the slicked skin to savour the taste.

“What a lovely little thing,” she said adoringly just as Sokari licked a thick stripe up the sole of her foot, nipping at the arch.

“I think… I oughta keep the both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short story is actually based on another author's ongoing story, which I absolutely love. It is _so_ unapologetically horny. In my short, Nabila has legs, whereas, in the original work, she has a snake tail. It's for convenience purposes. A little hard to get some off using your feet, lmao
> 
> If you would like to read the original story, click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003135/chapters/52506133)


	4. Day 4: Body Worship (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Underage, demonic possession, slight body horror (black goo comes out of the urethra)
> 
> CW: M/M, priest/guardian, human/centaur, rimming, anal fingering, orgasm denial, urethra insertion, handjob, _la petite mort_

“I… I can’t, Raksa… It’s too embarrassing.”

“Bear with it just a while longer, Sayujya,” Raksa said calmly to the teen boy-maiden standing in front of him, facing away so as to present his behind, while he felt about the thin legs. Up from the shins. Over the knees and thighs. They trembled delicately and the skin pebbled with goosebumps under Raksa’s gentle touch. He didn’t lift the boy’s robes to avoid embarrassing him further, and that was alright.

He needed Sayujya to relax now. His soul was squirming with an evil darkness and riling up his little maiden in-training would only make purging the boy of this entity unpleasant, if not painful. The last thing Raksa wanted to do was damage the bond they share by hurting Sayu.

Raksa was methodical in every way. He had Sayujya stand facing the wall of a dusty temple shed while he laid his burly horse body down behind him. The boy’s positioning kept him from fleeing his touches, while he kept himself low to the ground to give Sayu the impression that he  _ could _ get away. If he really wanted to, Raksa wouldn’t stop him. The location was also remote and had gone nearly abandoned as a result, providing Sayujya with a bit of peace of mind. The risk of them being found wasn’t so great here, and yet they were still on the Holy ground where Raksa’s powers would be at their strongest.

Sayujya gasped and his hand flew to his nethers, grabbing Raksa’s hand to still him through the fabric of the maiden robes. Raksa waited a moment for the boy’s grip to loosen around him before he began stroking his cock with slow, experimental pulls of his wrist. The organ in his hand hardened easily as expected of a sixteen-year-old boy and that pleased Raksa. It would make his job as the centaur guardian of this temple a whole lot easier if his boy-maiden was responsive.

“Raksa…” the boy breathed. He pressed his forehead to the wall and arched his back to push his rear back. Raksa didn’t handle any more than his little cock yet, while his free hand continued to run the length of those slender legs.

“There is no rush in this,” Raksa said softly, his strokes steady. The boy nodded. “There is no shame in this, child maiden.” His voice lowered and his hand tighter. His next strokes earned him a few stuttering breaths, but Sayujya was otherwise quiet. His boy-maiden’s face was flushed a bright crimson that coloured even his ears and neck, and should he disrobe the boy, he was sure to find the rest of him blushing in much the same way. “This is your body and it is sacred.”

“P-please stop talking,” Sayujya mumbled.

Raksa paused and looked up at that face twisted about with a human emotion he couldn’t comprehend. Sayu turned to face the other so he couldn’t see his face anymore. Raksa sighed.  _ Humans… Such complex beings, and yet so fragile. _

If Sayu wanted him to be quiet, then he would be quiet.

His hand resumed its teasing pulling. He listened to the shuddering breaths the boy took because of his attentive touching. He was pleased when he stroked his thumb over a small pearl of moisture that he spread gingerly over the head of the cock he jerked. He kept the same tantalizingly languid pace, all the while Sayujya’s hips began to buck when the boy grew dissatisfied with his hand.

“Mmmmngh… Come on!” the boy groaned, but Raksa kept his pace. “You’re killing me.” The small hand on his wrist liberated him completely and slammed open-palmed at the wooden wall instead. His hips wiggled, shaking his rear in a way Raksa knew was meant to tempt him, but he stood his ground firmly and relinquished his hold of the boy’s cock when he thrust his hips of his own volition in an attempt to feel more, faster. This made Sayujya whine and writhe. He stomped his foot like an ill-tempered child. “Raksa!”

“The spirit inside of you,” Raksa started. He purposely kept his voice a low whisper which forced Sayu to stop whining. “It grows restless. Calm yourself, child maiden, or I might have no other choice but to hurt you.”

“Then do it right, Raksa!” the boy quipped back angrily.

“Do what right?”

Oh, that seemed to cut through his boy-maiden’s frustrations. Raksa knew the boy would never openly utter the words to exactly describe what he wanted.

“Just…” Sayu’s voice tapered into a shrill grunt. “J-just… do it… Do it how I like it…”

“I am afraid that is not nearly sufficient, Sayujya,” Raksa said with that same low, even tone. “You know the words you have to say. Be specific.”

“God…” the boy sobbed.

As he’d expected. His boy-maiden didn’t quite know how to ask still.  _ He will learn. _

Raksa saw this as a small victory which he treated as an opportunity to let his other hand rise up the boy’s leg, to let his fingertips tickle the hip bones before he brought his hand to grope at the tight ass pushed towards him. He squeezed one cheek from beneath the maiden robes and bit the other over the fabric. Sayu’s yelped was a soft, childish sound, almost a ticklish gasp, and he bucked his hips forward, away from Raksa’s teeth. He squeezed the tip of the boy’s cock to stop him from fleeing forward.

_ “Mmmmm… Noooo… T-too tight,”  _ Sayu whimpered.

“Your body is growing hot,” Raksa noted. Indeed, the boy-maiden’s cock was feverish in his hand, and the tip oozed like a fountain with pent up need now. He could smell the arousal off of him, but it was being swallowed by the darkness, thick and tar-like, and it would make Sayujya sick.

_ “Please, Raksa…” _ the boy begged. He, too, could feel the change overwhelming him.  _ “I don’t want to -- a-aaah! -- beg.” _

“Very well, Sayujya. I will not make you beg, but you will have to open your body to me if you want it worshipped by your guardian.” Raksa felt the boy’s crease with his thumb, gliding through the valley of his ass from the dip of his back to his taint while applying a teasing pressure to the tight hole until the boy hissed. Sayu pushed his rear back onto him. “Say you mean to take me within yourself, child maiden. Say the words that I might purge this disease from your body.”

There was a long silence between them where Raksa kept squeezing pre-come from the boy’s cock whilst teasing his taut ass. He supposed Sayu was either processing the sensations or wondering what he should say to satisfy his temple’s centaur guardian.

Finally, the boy pleaded sweetly, simple yet needy, “I need your help, Raksa. I… I need you…”

That… was enough to incite a reaction out of Raksa who eased the back of the boy’s robes up, bundling the fabric over and into the sash tightly knitted around the boy-maiden’s waist, and he lapped at the boy’s hams with soft kissed, suckles, and loving bites that made him shudder. Gooseflesh prickled the skin he licked over until he bit hard into the skinny asscheek. The muscle tightened between his teeth and Sayujya moaned, a delightful little sound which rolled off of Raksa’s back and down his spine.

_ “Ooooh, G-God! Mmmhm… Ah!” _ Sayu gasped and jumped to his toes when Raksa’s jaws clamped viciously into his flesh. Surely, this bite would leave its mark on him.

Raksa relinquished his hold, kissed the abused flesh over and licked at the skin, a soothing gesture. He moved to nuzzle against the crease, as he let go of the boy’s cock to spread both asscheeks. Raksa hummed, took one long lick from taint up before he came to suck hard at one of Sayu’s back dimples. The boy-maiden’s boy shook and his knees buckled, and Raksa sucked to bruise the skin, but the sound it wrenched from his little maiden was anything but pained.

Sayujya liked this! Raksa found a spot to tease the boy until he was bending back for more. This savage kiss he implanted over the boy’s lower back made him claw at the walls and cry in such melodious noises, lewd and unabashed.

_ “O-ooh! Raksa!” _ the boy moaned, long and high, from deep within his chest.  _ “W-what are you -- uuuuuuhhhhhuuuhhh… ffff-fu -- uuuh -- ck, Raksa!” _

He released the piece of skin he was sucking on and yanked from within the pale flesh a black, oozing, wriggling mass. The demon which had taken over his little maiden’s body, the entity who defiled this precious body, precious human under his protection, he was able to wrench part of it from the boy’s soul.

He slurped the black goop. “Would you speak such foul language in your mother’s presence?” he asked teasingly, his mouth full of the demon’s body which fought against him only for it to end up swallowed.

Raksa opened his mouth to utter another taunt, but Sayujya pushed himself onto him.

_ “D-don’t stop!” _ the boy said.  _ “Please… don’t stop!” _

He obliged with an amused scoff and mouthed at his little maiden’s ass again, bathing him, breathing him in. Young, pure… and so very tainted. Tainted by undeserving darkness which he never should have allowed near this boy. The mere thought of having to share this delightfully fresh body with an evil entity had him growling and grazing sharp eye teeth over the boy’s sensitive center. He pushed against the tight ring of muscle with the flat of his tongue, teased and massaged until Sayu’s voice sweetened into wanton supplications before he first forced the breach.

Sayujya hissed, pulled himself up onto his tiptoes, and Raksa had to pull him back down to keep prying that hole open. He wiggled his tongue, pushed in as far as the boy’s body would allow, and pulled out. He made a mess of his boy-maiden. Slobbered all over his crack. Slobbered into him. Bit. Sucked. Kiss. And when Raksa began stroking his dripping cock, Sayu practically bloomed against his mouth. The boy gritted his teeth to muffle the shouts being yanked from him. He left nail marks into the wood he clawed, and when his short nails hurt, he reached behind him to claw at Raksa’s bare shoulders and pull at his thick, soft dreads.

_ “Aaaaahhhh! Uhn! Uuuuuhhhh… I-it’s not enough! Raksa -- aaaahhh! More… I need more!” _

Raksa ignored the boy’s hands, the scratches they left on his body. They would heal and the pain they provided was exquisite. He also thought the boy-maiden would need something to ground him because he removed his tongue from the boy’s hole and filled it with a thick finger instead.

_ “Hm! Mmmm! God! Inside!” _ Sayujya gasped, his back arching. His breaths came as a mixture of agonizing groans and salacious bedroom noises as he fucked himself back onto Raksa’s finger.

Seeing this, Raksa forced a second finger past the boy’s spit-slicked asshole and speared him deep and hard. He touched his little maiden’s innards, felt for that bundle of nerves, and assumed to have found it when Sayujya screamed. His voice then tapered off as Raksa focused on that one spot, prodding, thrusting, massaging. He sucked more hickeys into the boy’s flesh, finding new erogenous spots on the lower back and hips to torture. He pulled whatever nasty blackness he could detach from the demon inside his maiden and swallowed the struggling goo.

The cock in his hand twitched every time he struck the boy’s prostate, pushing past the line a continuous stream of pre which he used to ease the friction of his movements. He recognized Sayujya’s impending orgasm, but his cries of pleasure turned pained and the steady flow of translucent fluid stopped.

_ “Raksa… Raksa! It won’t -- hnnngh! Won’t… won’t come out!” _ Sayu said pitifully.

“The creature possessing you is a powerful entity, child maiden. I cannot banish it from you on my own,” Raksa admitted. “You will have to push it to the surface so that I may take hold of it. Do not let this entity hide within the depths of your soul.”

_ “I don’t -- mmmm! Raksa!” _

“Expel this poison inside of you,” he said.

_ “Stop t-touching -- aaaaahh! Raksa, help me! I don’t understand…” _ The boy-maiden’s body snapped forward, bending at the waist as Raksa kept jerking his cock and fingering his ass. His little hand gripped Raksa’s wrist.

“Do it as if you were trying to urinate, Sayujya,” Raksa said softly. “Open yourself from the inside and force it out.”

He doubted the boy truly understood what he was to do and how he was to do it, but his body seemed to catch on, either out of instinct or out of sheer luck. Quiet tears twinkled in the boy’s eyes, one even dripped from his lower lashline and onto his cheek, but he clung to him and gritted his teeth until Raksa’s hand slid along the length of the small cock, squeezing hard with a vice-like grip when he reached the head, and he pulled a long, thick rope of black tar from the boy’s urethra.

It thrashed about wildly as it clung to Sayujya’s soul and body, but Raksa was able to slowly pull the boy free of this leeching infection. The release overwhelmed his little maiden whose body caved and gave in. Raksa had to quickly slip his fingers for the boy’s insides to catch the small body as it collapsed.

“Sayujya!” His call fell upon deaf ears, however, as the boy lay unconscious in his arms. Raksa growled, not liking this sudden turn of even, and he took his frustrations out on the black wiggling thing in his hand. He snapped it with his teeth, chewed hard and fast, and finally swallowed it. And now, he had no other choice but to turn his attention to the unconscious Sayujya. His face was peaceful and his breathing steady, but his skin was covered in a sheer layer of perspiration. He could still feel some of the demon’s remnants within his little boy-maiden’s soul, but it was heavily subdued for now.

_ For now… _

He cleaned his maiden with his tongue, lapping at the lazy ooze of cum finally able to escape the softening erection until there was nothing left. He eased Sayujya onto his flank, careful not to move the boy brusquely, and combed the matted, sweaty locks with his fingers.

Sayu shifted, mumbled a little, and his eyes fluttered blankly. Raksa placed a soothing hand over the boy’s back.

“Sleep, child maiden,” he said gently, “You have fought well. Rest now.”

The boy nuzzled against his horse body, frowning at the texture of his coat, but otherwise settled peacefully and closed his eyes once more. He’d fought well, indeed, but he wasn’t completely ridden of this entity. It would return again, making his maiden ill again, but he hoped that the next time it did, he could eradicate it for good. And then Sayu’s beautiful body would be pure once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little peculiar of demonic possession and exorcism, ain't it? I supposed the fragments of the spirit Raksa pulls from Sayujya taste salty. What do you think it tastes like?


	5. Day 5: Lap Dance (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Non-con/Dub-con, drunken sex, incest
> 
> CW: M/M/M, crossdressing, threesome, lap dance, anal sex, spit roasting, blowjob, anal fingering, twincest

The twins were impossible! Wherever Fakhir went, whatever he said or did, they followed after him like a couple of lost puppies. More like a couple of horny bitches, he should say. They begged him for attention, and while Fakhir couldn’t say he didn’t find the twins attractive, he needed something fresh.

Someone other than Sokari and Akeem.

Which was why, under the cover of darkness, he mounted his camel, Atahuti, and left his gang’s encampment for the little town not too far off. It was a small merchant town where they had sold off a few of their goods earlier that same day and raked in a small fortune. They hadn’t explored much of what the town had to offer aside from the bazaar and a few stores, but he remembered seeing what looked to be a brothel. Sure enough, Fakhir found it without too much trouble—a coyote’s nose was never wrong.

Once inside, Fakhir was settled for drinks, hookah, and two veiled beastwomen who smelled simply delightful.  _ Magnolias. Finely aged wine. A gentle soap. _ A scent he wouldn’t mind putting in his mouth. Would they mind if he hadn’t bathed for them? he wondered. Judging by the way they clung to his neck and giggled and everything he said, he supposed they either didn’t notice, care, or put up with his scent. After all, he had paid for their company.

“You must be quite the dangerous beastman,” one of the two beastwomen noted suggestively when he concluded his story. She clung to his shoulders, pulling his head towards her chest. Not overly supple, but Fakhir wasn’t picky.

“I’m only dangerous if I’ve something to gain,” Fakhir said.

A small hand with soft claws touched his cheek then to pull his face the other way, towards the other beastwoman. “Are we in danger with you?” she asked without an ounce of fear.

Fakhir squeezed then close to him, his arms wrapped around their tiny waists. They were just the perfect fit for him. Lithe, short, with large, pointed ears outlined by the scarf over their heads, and a long, fluffy tail peeking from the bottom of their dresses, the fur soft and the colour of golden sand. He boasted a proud and predatory laugh. “Not for as long as you don’t resist, sweetings! I may be ruthless, but I would never harm a pretty lil’ thing like you.”

They giggled. Such a sweet noise of merriment that Fakhir no longer thought of the twins. He was free of them at last. And so he trusted them when they offered him another drink. Followed by another. And another… When, next thing he knew, he poured the last drop of his second bottle of wine into his chalice, which the two beastwomen happily urged him to drink fast.

“Another bottle!” Fakhir slurred upon tossing the now-empty chalice at the ground.

The beastwoman on his left scurried to pick up the discarded cup and take away the empty bottle. She disappeared behind a curtain, somewhere off to the side. Fakhir hadn’t seen where she left to because his vision was so blurry. Eventually, however, she returned to his side with a new bottle and a chalice which she promptly filled and handed over to him. He pushed it away to offer it to her. He tried to tell her as much, but his mouth was numb and his tongue felt too big and heavy to move. She seemed to understand, though, as she forced the edge of the cup to his lips. When he tasted the fruity alcoholic liquid, though, no force had to be applied as he took the cup for himself and threw his head back to drink its content with newfound desperation.

_ I’m so thirsty… This isn’t enough… _

“Dance for me!” he told them, but only forced one to stand in front of him. The other beastwoman snuck away, behind him, and massaged his shoulders. His words were heavily affected by the alcohol. “Dance pretty for me, sweeting.”

The beastwomen laughed and indulged him in his drunkenness. One kneaded his shoulders and neck, working deft little fingers to undo the knots in his muscles while the other twisted her waist, gestured her hands shapely, and twirled for their pleasure. She was nimble and graceful, more so than Fakhir could remember ever seeing—or perhaps it was his vision wavering again. He was made to relax under very capable hands to really consider it, and when delicate hands started slipping over his front, he didn’t think to stop them.

“Isn’t she beautiful,” a soft, steady voice called in Fakhir’s right ear and he nodded, smiled, and lifted his hand to call the beastwoman back to him. She floated on air.

“Come closer, pretty,” he mumbled, his words thick with slurring.

She did go to him, took his hand, and undulated her hips when he pulled her down into his lap. He said something incomprehensible and she ground against him. Hands were touching him from all over, his neck, his jawline, shoulders, and his pecs, up and down his arms, scratching slight reddish marks over tanned skin until he was shuddering and absent-mindedly bucking his hips against… nothing.

_ Nothing… How disappointing. He wanted to fuck… _

He squeezed the flesh he held in his hands, unaware that his own claws were cutting into flesh until the beastwoman dancing in his lap mewled. Her front stuttered forward as she rubbed her crotch against his rippling abs, brushing against his tent as she did so.

Fakhir growled when she came back up, and when he grabbed her with his claws this time to pull her back down, she yelped and lurched forward to cling to his neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“N-nowhere, sir!” she answered.

He guided her waist, showing her how to move her body so that his cock only grazed her center. He pulled her legs to each side of her, forced her to rise and fall with the snake-like rolling of her hips. Up and down. Side to side. Forward and back. He had her moving like this until the front of his breeches were soaked through and through.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened exactly, but the two beastwomen had set about torturing the pulsing veins in each side of his neck. A warm body leaned against his back, the other beastwoman, with her mouth on his skin. Sucking. Nipping. Soft keening sounds resonating in both of his ears, lewd little noises to make him shiver, make him want. Moaning so sweetly for him. He gasped when a small hand found his cockhead, touched him there. He was being stroked, slowly, or fast, depending on the jerks of his hips.

They had found their way under his clothes when he couldn’t even find the hems of their dresses to feel them as they felt him. Fakhir thought, maybe, he’d drank a little bit too much. However, his senses stuttered with sudden clarity when he felt a tight pressure bearing down on his cock. The beastwoman in his lap was bringing herself down over him, holding him steady as she slowly took him into her body.

“You can be rough with me,” she said in his ears.

That was all he needed to hear before he pulled her down by the waist, piercing the tight heat until he was completely sheathed. She muffled a shout into his shoulder just as he lifted her little body, and brought her back down onto him with an ear-shattering slap.

He gave her no warning, no time to adjust before he had her bouncing in his lap. He drank in the breaths and yelps he pounded out of her and relished in the delightful sting of her claws in his back. When she cried out with a particular moan, he asked, “You like that? That the spot?” only to redouble in his efforts so she couldn’t find her voice to answer him.

_ “Uuuuuuhhhh… Y-yessss! Oooh! Uhn! Uhn! F-fffffuck me… harder…” _

He obliged.

It was also then that the other beastwoman with them stood beside him, just over his shoulder, and pulled her friend by the back of the head. She yanked the beastwoman to her crotch, but there was no fight in either of them. Her dress was lifted, along with her friend’s veil, to reveal an erect cock. Fakhir only caught a glimpse of it before it disappeared, swallowed in one swift bob of the beastwoman’s head. Seeing this, strange ease washed over him.

The beastwoman’s mouth was being fucked just as roughly as he was hammering at her cunt. He set off to throw her off balance, but she held onto her friend and took the beating of his hips. And when his balls pulled up and he came into her, she clamped down around his cock.  _ “Uuurrrgh… Oh, yeah, squeeze the cum right out of me!” _ Fakhir hissed through clenched teeth.

_ “You’re gonna make me—hnnnnngh!! I’m cumming!” _ the beastwoman cried out after him. Her hips stuttered, her thrusts now brutal, until she lodged herself into her friend’s throat and rolled her hips while she came.  _ “Oooooh! Fucking—mmmm! Yes!”  _

She held her there for a moment, groaning and twitching with each pulse of her orgasm. When she finally pulled back, the beastwoman in his lap turned to kiss him deeply. She pried past his lips, licking inside his mouth. Tasting him as he tasted her. A familiar saltiness he hadn’t expected to find on his tongue that night. One he could appreciate nonetheless. She kissed him until they were breathless, but before they could gasp for air, the other beastwoman pushed her friend back to claim his mouth for herself. She kissed him hard, bit his lip and sucked on his tongue, and held him at the back of his head so he couldn’t pull away from her.

Fakhir’s world… went black.

*** ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ***

“Akeem!” Sokari threw his brother’s leather sack onto his stomach with enough force to jerk him awake. “Get up! We have to go before Fakhir wakes up!”

The coyote was snoring beside Akeem. Passed out drunk. And his brother was just laying there, without a care in the world, as though they weren’t at all risking the beating of their lives if Fakhir caught onto their masquerade. Dressing up as beastwomen had been a stupid move, but they hadn’t been found out yet. It was best they hightail it out of the brothel and leave their boss to come to on his own.

“Awww! Can’t you just relax for a bit?” Akeem groaned.

He sat up just as Sokari came to him, turned, and presented his ass. He spread his asscheeks to reveal a perfect pucker, dark wrinkles, twitching with anticipation. Akeem’s mouth watered. No way was he going to be able to keep himself from staring with wide, hungry eyes.

“I was bleeding when I cleaned myself,” Sokari said, but Akeem heard nothing. “Fakhir went at my ass pretty hard… Can you check that he didn’t tear me inside?”

_ Check? Oh, I’ll check alright. _ He touched soft circles just over the tight ring, massaging the battered area with the gentlest of pressure to make Sokari squirm with growing arousal. His brother’s cock was hardening again, whereas Akeem was already rock hard in his trousers.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to play with my hole,” Sokari said, “I just want you to see if—s-shit!”

Akeem breached his brother’s asshole with just the tip of his middle finger. He pulled at Sokari’s ring, opening him up, stretching him, before he forced the rest of his digit inside. Sokari moaned, long and hot, as he pumped his finger in and out, felt inside for that bitch switch. His brother crumbled before him when he did. Sokari’s knees bent and his brother was down on all fours with his ass in the air, mewling as Akeem fingered that taut ass.

“Your ass is quivering around my finger like crazy,” Akeem noted, much to his brother’s embarrassment. “You never got to cum, didn’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sokari said.

“Of course it does! Here!” Akeem pushed a second finger inside his brother. “I’ll make you cum.”

Sokari arched his back and fucked himself back with a soft cry. “B-but Fakhir—“

“Who cares! Just be a good little slut and let me mess you up a little!”

He did. He let Akeem touch him, inside his ass, until clear fluid oozed from his cock. Then, his brother lifted him to his knees and held him so he only had to buck his hips to fuck his cock into a tight fist and hammer his ass over two fingers which cleverly found his prostate. He could torture himself with the rhythm that suited him until he shot thick ropes of white cum onto the floor in front of him.

He fell back against his brother, his chest heaving, and rested for a long time before he could find the strength in his legs to move again. By then, it was time to return back to the gang on the outskirts of the town.

As they rode on their camel, with Sokari upfront to save his ass from being saddle sore, Akeem leaned in and asked, “Will you give me a lap dance too?”

“Don’t be stupid, Akeem! Of course, I will.”


	6. Day 6: Edging (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW: M/M, Omega/Omega, Omegaverse, edging, anal sex, sex toys)

_ Nickel. _

That was the safe word Aiden had decided upon before the start of the scene. And Milo carefully sounded the word out in his head. Over and over again. Hopefully, he usually thought, it wouldn’t be spoken today.

Milo was brought back to the scene, to his boyfriend, when this one whined and pleaded and thrusts his hips upwards to fuck the empty air. “God, Milo, please!” Aiden begged like this time and again. Each whimpering sobs a little sweeter to the ear. Soft panting gradually turning laboured and desperate. Milo’s Omega…

He was an Omega himself, and the pleasures he could provide his mate with during a heat cycle was limited in some ways by default of a lack of knot. However, this did not mean he couldn’t wreck his beautiful redhead and make him weep for release.

Milo took a remote control from his mate’s hand. It controlled the vibrating bullet attached to the head of his erect cock, and it had been given to him to decide how he wished to be tortured. As it turned out, it appeared Aiden liked to suffer more than he’d originally thought. Upon receiving the handheld device, he’d cranked the nob all the way, maxing out the strength of the vibrations. He inflicted himself this agony, perhaps with the hopes driving himself over the edge faster. He was unsuccessful in this, as he came to begrudgingly realize after some fifteen minutes.

“Let me help you,” Milo said softly, almost sincerely. He had no visible intentions of letting his mate come. Not this early in their scene.

He turned the bullet off, and Aiden’s body went from taut and arched to limp as he flopped weakly over the bed from which he was tied spread-eagle. A still-hard cock jutted from its copper bush which concealed the metal ring tightly fitted around the base of the shaft. The head leaked a thin fluid glistening in the low light.

_ A beautiful cock, _ Milo decided approvingly. He ran his fingers from the navel down, over Aiden’s gooseflesh, prickled and pebbled skin, scratched the thick forest of pubes, and drew a feather-light touch over the heated flesh of his mate’s erection. Aiden bucked against his hand, cursing his tantalizing touch whilst also begging to be handled properly. Something Milo wasn’t quite ready to do yet.

“Milo!” Aiden begged him, “Please! I can’t take it anymore!”

He studied his Omega for a brief moment. Perspiration clung to his forehead, just like the colour spreading from his face to his neck, and then over his chest. Pale green eyes shone in the dimness with the telltale wetness of tears. Milo chuckled. “ Are you going to cry, my love?”

Aiden rebelled against the condescension and gnashed his teeth while he gave a feeble attempt to yank his wrists and ankles free of their bindings. “I’m not gonna cry, but for God’s sake, Milo! Touch me!” Milo was almost swayed to indulge the Omega.

“Not yet,” he said simply and he turned his back to his Omega.

It was evidently not what Aiden had expected or wanted to hear. He struggled against his bindings and keened with frustration at the lack of stimulation. The cockring kept him hard, responsive, and easy to control. Control… Not like he would be too difficult to handle all tied up like this.

“Milo…”

Milo ignored the soft sob. Such a sweet noise, he thought, that he couldn’t help but vibrate from his head to his toes. It pulled something dark to the surface and he loved it. Aiden begged still by calling his name in that same sweet, delicious whine that broke him. Broke him just as he would break his Omega. Hard and thoroughly. He returned to his mate with their favourite toy, a plug, long and thin with bumps and ridges he knew would mess Aiden up completely.

“Milo…” another breath. “Milo… What are you doing with that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he let Aiden’s imagination take him wherever it would when he produced a bottle of lubricant from the bedside table close to his mate’s head. Aiden was a smart man; he could figure out where this was going. He poured a generous amount, not directly in his hand, but rather on the tight ballsack hanging between the Omega’s spread legs. It pulled up and Aiden hissed, the lube not at all warm enough to be comfortably applied. Cold lube. “I think you’re going to like this part the most,” Milo said, but he was met with a disagreeable scowl. So feisty. He spread the slick from the Omega’s balls to his taint, coming to the puckered anus already quivering for him.

Aiden writhed and sucked in a sharp breath, prepared to bear down on two, possibly three digits, but Milo didn’t breach him. He played small circles around the tight ring, pushing without penetrating every so often to keep things interesting until Aiden was thoroughly coated with lube.

“It feels—hnnng… What is this?” Aiden gasped when Milo’s fingers came to massage his taint again. He kicked his head back and squirmed against his bindings. “It’s getting… hot… What did you do, Milo? I’m getting so… oh… oh yeah, t-there is goo—mmmm!” His voice fell to a low rumbling purr and his eyes rolled back.  _ Heated lube. _ A new and recent purchase Milo knew would effectively blow his mate’s mind.

He poured a long stream of the stuff directly onto the Omega’s cockhead, waited for it to dribble down the shaft on it own and for Aiden to should twisting his hips, and he stroked with his free hand to coat the entire left of the cock, from the head to the ring and back up to the head.

_ Up and down. Rubbing. Up and down. _

Until Aiden’s cock twitched hard in his hand. He squeezed his fist tight and jerked his wrists. Hard, fast, making Aiden cry out with pleasured shouts, only to stop before this one could reach orgasm. He was given a few moments of respite until Milo judged him eased from that dangerous edge and ready to suffer another agonizingly fast rise of pleasure welling in him. Milo kept him in that zone of heightened sensation for longer than either of them cared to keep track of. Milo masturbated Aide until he cried that his climax was near, stopped, waited, and then started over again.

So wretched the Omega’s body had become, so desperate for that final push, that the plug had slipped into him unnoticed. No need for stretching. Just a little bit of lube and one perfect angle, and Aiden’s consciousness nearly vanished. His body had become one single erogenous organ and he fucked up into Milo’s fish just as fervently as he bounced his ass onto the mattress because the toy was hitting just the right stop inside of him.

When Milo’s fist began cramping, he let go of the cock moving in his grip and his eyes met the fire in Aiden’s. Something that seemed to say:  _ fuck me now before I fuck you. _ An empty threat, no doubt, but no less exciting. If he reached between Aiden’s asscheeks for the toy’s angle, his body convulsed to push him away, to stop him from altering the angle at which the toy pressed against his prostate. It was perfectly positioned for his pleasure and he didn’t want Milo messing with that. He messed with it anyway.

“Look at how beautiful you look,” Milo said when he had a hand pressing down over his Omega’s chest. Aiden was abusing his own prostate by then, arching his back to grind his ass in awkward, clumsy circles. It nudged the toy inside and stroked him just so. Milo pinched a perked nipple, tweaked it softly at first until he twisted and pulled a brisk yelp from his mate. “I could do this to you all day…”

“Oh, God! Yes, please!”

“Honest already, are we?” Milo asked, amused and grinning.

“I need more, Milo!” Aiden pleaded. “God, please! My balls—hnnng! Mmf! It hurts… I want to cum!”

That last part had been an order, which was uncalled for from an immobilized Omega. Aiden wasn’t in control here. Milo was. Even so, he could think of an explosive finish and how to go about it. “Yes,” he said calmly, “You deserve your reward, my love.” He pulled the toy loose from Aiden’s asshole and undid the front of his pants. They fell to his knees, and after he’d pushed his briefs down, he half-chub sprung free. He gave it a few rousing pumps with his slicked hand, climbed onto the bed to kneel between Aiden’s legs, and aligned himself with his mate’s entrance.

“Wait! You can’t—“ Aiden seemed to want to say more, but he was mute.

Milo pressed the head of his cock to the tight pucker and gradually introduced his length within the slippery passage. Aiden was still tight, incredibly hot, and his ass gripped at his cock whenever he pulled himself back. Tight, but not so tight that he couldn’t push in to the hilt of him.

He started slow, rolling his hips with precision, experimenting with the angles in search of that sweet spot. The inside quivered intensely when he found it and Aiden let go of a long, pained moan of delicious agony.  _ “Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhuuh! Oh G-God, yes! There! Right there—fffffuck! This feels so good!” _ But Milo stopped. At first, he stopped to readjust himself. His leg was beginning to cramp with the position he found himself into. He never resumed thrusting. Instead, he lifted Aiden’s hips and held his mate’s lower body up on him.

Milo grinned something wicked. “If you wanna cum, you’re going to have to work for it, baby,” he said.

“Hnnngh!!” Aiden groaned, knuckled turning white as he dug his nails into his palms. “God, please… You’re killing me! My ass needs you to move!”

“I’m not moving, so you might as well ride me,” Milo said. “Otherwise you’ll be stuck here with a toy in your ass and a vibrator on the tip of your dick, and you won’t get to come for a good while.”

This seemed to get the message across to a very sullen Omega who planted his feet into the mattress and rocked his ass up and down.  _ Up and down. Up and down. _ It took him a moment to get used to the cock going in and out of him while he was squeezing his thighs, and it took him a little bit more time to find a satisfying speed and angle, but once Aiden got going, once he found his pleasure point and no longer had to worry about the awkwardness of fucking himself, he felt apart. All Milo had to do was keep him for lifting himself completely off of his cock.

_ “Oooooooh! Uhn! Uhn! Aaaahn… M-Milo! Take it—mmmmm! Off! Off! T-take it off!” _

Milo pulled the cockring loose from the base of Aiden’s shaft and he erupted. Powerful shots of thick semen shot from his cockhead, splattering on his belly, chest, and even a little on his chin. Aiden’s body convulsed wildly as he savagely fucked himself on Milo’s cock. His ass clenched around the intrusion and that set off Milo’s own release. They both came with choked moans before collapsing, Aiden on his back and Milo on his chest.

The two men panted, exhausted, and let the afterglow of their orgasm wash over them. Like this, they were connected, and they remained as such until Milo had gone so soft that Aiden’s body had no trouble expelling him.

“I don’t think I can move,” Milo said breathily.

Aiden chuckled softly, but he couldn’t wrap his arms around Milo. “Can you untie me now?” Milo obliged and Aiden embraced him immediately.

“Let’s rest a little before we order something to eat?” Aiden proposed.

Milo couldn’t refuse. His eyes were already drooping and the leftover arousal in his make’s scent was both intoxicating and lulling. He closed his eyes when Aiden kissed his head and fell asleep.


	7. Day 7: Leather (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: M/M, omegaverse, car sex, anal sex.

Three months and seventeen days.

Three months and seventeen days had gone by since the last time Zach and Morgan had done anything, and every passing minute felt agonizingly daunting. They had fought yesterday, and Zach had woken up to learn that his mate was sending their kids to his mother’s to spend a couple of nights. That was unexpected and it left him feeling insecure like their marriage was hanging on… three months and seventeen days.

They hadn’t spoken further than Morgan’s sudden plans. His mate had left with the kids and gone straight to work, further straining their relationship. Now, Zach didn’t know what to think, what it meant, or how to handle it. He acted out a few different scenarios in his mind, but…

He slapped the dishrag into the water and cursed. The potatoes were boiling over, water leaking from the edge of the pot and down onto the glass of the cooktop where the pour sizzled. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he wasn’t even able to pay attention to the dinner he was preparing. It wasn’t much, but it was special and significant. He hoped to wine and dine his Omega, just like they used to in their first few years, and hopefully, it would help him get his libido going.

He threw himself into his menial housework. Same thing, different day. He didn’t hate it. In fact, Zach quite enjoyed cleaning and cooking. He enjoyed the challenge of being a homemaker, and it gave him a sense of Alpha pride to know that his pups wore clean clothes because of him, that everyone ate delicious and healthy meals because of him, and that everyone felt loved.

_ Do I really make Morgan feel loved, though? _ he wondered. A devastating thought which he suffered greatly from. He loved his Omega. His mate. He loved the mother of his children. Loved his husband. The idea of Morgan leaving him was too excruciating to think of.

Three months… and seventeen days.

Would Morgan trade ten years of marriage for three months and seventeen days of abstinence? Zach didn’t think so. Actually, he hoped it wasn’t so.

Time seemed to rush by whilst he slaved away with dinner. He wanted to impress his mate, when this one came home, with a delicious roast beef of his own recipe. Everyone who’d ever taken to his roast had complimented him, later asking for him to share the recipe. It required slow-cooking an entire roast for eight hours with some Coca Cola, barbeque sauce, garlic, ginger, celery, carrots, and onions, but Zach kept his secret well-guarded in refusing to share this peculiar recipe. Perhaps it was foolish of him to rely on a simple roast to soften Morgan to him. He was desperate.

Morgan eventually came home. It was a quarter past ten when his mate finally walked through the threshold of the front door and called out for him. “I’m home!” Morgan said from the entryway where he tucked his shoes away and shrugged his coat onto the rack.

“Are you hungry?” Zach asked from the kitchen.

He was preparing the last few details: placing plates, cutlery, a little vase with a single rose, two wine cups, Morgan’s favourite wine bottle. “Urg, I’m starving!” Morgan answered, but Zach kept dashing wildly between the kitchen and dining table to set the food, hot and fresh, and so aromatic that holding the roast beef so close to his person made Zach’s mouth water. “Oh, God, it smells so good!” Zach heard his mate say. He was drawing near.

It wasn’t until Zach heard a surprised gasp of delight that he knew Morgan had reached him in the dining room. He spun towards the large arch where his mate stood, a look of sheer amazement on his face. This made Zach’s heart flutter triumphantly.

“What’s all this?” Morgan asked, gesturing vaguely to the table’s romantic set up. “You got… candles, wine—oh.” Morgan took the bottle and stared longingly at it, and with quite a bit of melancholy. “It’s the disgusting bottle we drank on our first anniversary…” he said, and though his words hadn’t been complimentary in the least, he spoke them fondly. He put the bottle down back onto the table and touched the rose. “What a pretty flower…” He then lifted the cover to the roast beef. “Yuuuum! That smells amazing, Zach!” he said hungrily, “I love your roast beef.”

Zach watched as his mate inspected the remainder of the set up for a little bit longer. And then he stepped forward, placed a hand on the other man’s lower back, and said, “I wanted to surprise you with a romantic dinner. Since…” He clammed up, but forced himself to resume. “Since the kids are gone, I thought we could spend a bit of time together? Just you and me.”

Morgan looked at him blankly for a long time. So long, in fact, did Morgan stare at him that Zach began to fear this had all been a grave mistake. But it wasn’t, and his mate offered him a warm smile full of love and affection.

“I’ve been dying to have you all to myself,” Morgan said.

So they both settled at the table together. Zach served them their plate, just as he would when their couple was still new and fresh, and they were both still young and impulsive. They engaged in amiable chatter, laughing a little where it was proper to do so. They reminisced about days spent in marital bliss with their children, remembering all of the horrible times they had been made to fuss over one of their pups with a broken bone.

The food tasted amazing, and it was hot and the meat was cooked just so, perfectly tender. Morgan complimented the food and toasted to them. Zach wasn’t quite sure when it was exactly that he had stopped worrying about their marriage, but if he had to take a guess, he would say now was just about the right time.

When their glasses ran dry, Zach took the bottle to refill them, but Morgan stopped him. He gave his mate a dubious and question look, which prompted the man to answer, “I… also have a surprise for you, actually.”

“For me?” Zach said, dumbfounded.

“Yes. After dinner, I’d like to take you somewhere special.”

_ Somewhere special. _ Now, Zach knew for a fact that Morgan couldn’t possibly mean the place where they had first come together. Really come together. That had been a mistake, and Zach was a much different person than he had been back then. The idea of returning to that office displeased him. “Where is that?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s a secret,” Morgan told him with a smile. “We’re gonna go for a drive after this. And you’ll see once we get there!”

For some reason he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t warm himself up to the idea of leaving the house tonight. The kids weren’t here, certainly, but he had this nagging…  _ No. Best not think about it, _ he thought,  _ Let’s just see what he had in store. Probably won’t even be that bad. _

They finished eating in companionable silence, and together, they cleaned up the dining room, put the leftovers away—the roast beef would be perfect for the kids’ lunches—and finished washing the dishes. They played with the water a little. Like two boys. Laughing, barking nonsensical insults and threats as they spun their damn rags in an attempt to snap it onto the other man’s rear. Zach was much bigger than his mate, and chasing him around the kitchen island had brought out a primal sense of predation in him. He laughed, genuinely laughed when he caught the smaller man.

_ My mate. My Omega. Mine. _

Eventually, their play came to a calm halt. It was time for them to go. Zach’s heart climbed to the back of his throat, but he conceded to following Morgan. They both wore their coat, just a light, autumnal wear, but before leaving, Morgan insisted on them wearing scarves.

“The way you’re talking, it’s almost like it’s going to be super cold where we’re going,” Zach said.

Morgan wrapped the scarf around Zach’s throat and said, “I just don’t want you getting sick.”

“Okay, Dr. Morgan Fairrow,” Zach teased with a sly grin.

“It’s Dr. Morgan Fairrow-Schoenfeld, sir,” Morgan corrected him, a suggestive look in those dark hazel eyes of his. “Been like that for ten years, now.”

The comment made Zach’s blood boil and he had to try and inconspicuously shift in his slacks. The reaction was a surprise, but then it wasn’t all too unfamiliar. With Morgan fussing over the scarf at his neck, they were close enough that he could smell his shampoo and cologne, and with the angle at which the dim light struck his mate’s eyes, he saw them anew. Beautiful. Glistening. Perfect.

He leaned his head down to kiss his mate square on the lips. A soft and loving caress between hot, dry lips and deft tongues. A slow dance for which Morgan rose to his tiptoes to better suit Zach. When he came down again, breaking the kiss, Zach wrapped him in a tight hug and they stayed like this for a time. And then, without breaking the silence between them, they urged each other out of the house, into the car, and out onto the streets in the dark of night.

It was Morgan who drove and drove them out of the city. He didn’t answer Zach’s numerous questions pertaining to their end destination, instead resorting to the dismissive, “You’ll see once we get there,” type of retort. They listened to the radio, but Zach’s nerves had turned him indecisive, so he spent the good majority of their trip switching back and forth between stations.

About half an hour into their outing, Morgan stopped at a truck stop to pump gas. Before they took off again, however, he also produced a blindfold from the center console. “Put this on,” he said and handed Zach the ribbon.

“Why?” Zach asked reluctantly.

Morgan took the ribbon from Zach’s hands with enough force to make him scoff with skepticism. He didn’t fight his mate who wrapped the silken fabric around his eyes before tying it off at the back of his head. The knot pulled on his hair, but he didn’t complain about it.

“You’ll see when we get there,” was all Morgan said to qualm his uncertainties.

The engine roared to life and the car was moving again. Zach’s stomach twisted and flipped a little when he couldn’t see the road, but he managed to somehow keep his dinner down. Suddenly, he regretted the roast beef. The car took a few turns, some sharper than others, and stopped every now and again, either at a red light or a stop sign. And then, without warning, the car came to a stop and the engine died. Zach reached for the blindfold, but Morgan caught his hand before he could remove it. “No! Keep it on for now. Please. I… wanna talk first.”

Zach’s jaws tightened, but he lowered his hand and nodded. “Okay. What about?”

There was a long silence and that made him anxious.

“Do you know how long it’s been since the last time we’ve had sex?” Morgan asked and Zach’s heart leapt into his throat.

_ Three months and seventeen days _ , he thought dreadfully. Three months and seventeen days was all it would take to tear them apart. He’d been a fool to believe that a nice dinner and wine could ever save them. And now, he would face the music as he should have from the very beginning. In spite of his newfound resolution, he didn’t answer Morgan truthfully. “No. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

He heard Morgan sigh. “It’s been a really long time, Zach.”

“How long?”

“Almost four months,” Morgan said firmly.

Zach was speechless. What was he supposed to say? Should he apologize for being a lousy husband, lover, mate? Should he stumble over his words in search of a cheap promise, or make up some sort of half-assed excuse? He didn’t want to do any of that, though.

He felt Morgan’s hand falling onto his own in his lap. “Is there… something wrong?”

“Something wrong? Like what?” Zach asked, still feigning innocence.

“Well, I-I don’t know!” Morgan sputtered helplessly. “Are you having erectile issues? Those are common for men your age, Zach.”

The assumption ruffled in, and not in a very pleasant way. “My dick’s fine.” he said curtly.

“Is it… Is it me, then? Are you not attracted to me anymore?” Zach’s jaw dropped at the insinuation. He was still quite madly in love with his Omega! But before he could confirm his sentiments for his mate, Morgan continued talking. “I know you’re not attracted to men, and I don’t doubt that things might be a little confusing for you sometimes, but we used to be so in love once… and you were so virile then, and so full of lust for me. I loved it because… because even if I know you’re not gay, I also knew you loved me, and I was the only man you ever loved! And that made me feel so special…”

But Morgan  _ was _ special! In every possible way imaginable, Zach’s Omega was a gem mined and polished just for him, and he would do all that he could to keep him in his arms. “Morgan, I love you,” Zach said desperately.

“Yeah, well…” A deep breath escaped Morgan. “It’s hard to believe when you refuse to touch me and push me away when I try to initiate.”

Wasn’t that the truth…

Zach had… no answer. He had deliberately pushed Morgan away on a number of occasions and further avoided the man. They shared a bed, but it had never felt so empty than in the last three months. What was wrong with him?

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” he said earnestly. He truly was sorry. “I-I just… There’s this… I… don’t know what’s wrong with me. But I love you! I really do! And that you have to believe me!”

Morgan gave a snort. “That I know. A man doesn’t just whip up dinner and go through the trouble of finding a terrible bottle of wine just for the heck of it.” He was silent for a few seconds, but then the click of an unbuckling seatbelt sounded out, and two hands worked at his breaches, undoing the button and opening the front before Zach could say anything. “I know your heart, Zach, which is why… I’m going to take care of this thing that’s keeping you from me. You’re mine and I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Those were mighty fine words that, spoken in any other situation might have touched Zach’s heart, but right here, right now, the only thing he could think of was the frantic pull and tug of ghostly hands over his boxers, coaxing his dick from its prison of cloth. He yelped at the feel of Morgan’s palm gliding over his cockhead, and he nearly jumped out of his seat when Morgan pumped his organ with deliberate wrist motions.

“Morgan!” Zach almost squealed in shock. “W-what’re you doing?!”

“Claiming what’s mine. Reminding you that you belong to me and that no one knows your body like I do!” was Morgan’s answer.

Before Zach could answer his mate, his senses were overwhelmed by white-hot pleasure numbing his mind to everything else. All he could focus on, it seemed, was the wet warmth enveloping his cock. It happened all at once, where Morgan swallowed all of his length, to the very base of his shaft, before bobbing his head.

His mate moved frantically, with all the urgency of an Omega in heat, lost to his carnal lustings. Morgan purred when the tip of Zach’s cock struck the back of his throat, sending delicious vibrations that made his balls pull up, his hips buck hard, and shot his nerves with a sensation he had unknowingly missed. “Oh, fffffuck! Morgan!” When his mate lifted his head, twisting his head left and right as he came to suck and lick at his tip. If he wasn’t ready to cum prematurely before, he sure was now that Morgan was sucking the cum right out of him.

Zach sank in his seat when Morgan started fondling his balls in tandem with a porn-worthy blowjob. He slammed his fist against the roof of the car, fingers curling and unfurling as he longed for purchase. He bore his feet down as best he could and, regardless of the limited space, he thrusted his hips up and forward. When he found that wasn’t sufficient, his hands dropped to his mate’s head. “I’m sorry, Morgan!” he said, his voice raspy, “I can’t… I’m sorry.” He entwined his fingers into the long curls of flaxen blond and gracelessly forced Morgan’s head to bob.

_ Up and down. Up and down. Harder and faster. _ He thrust his cock into that tight throat, fucking as wildly as the cramped passenger seat would allow until his body seized and convulsed, his release very near. “S-shit! Mmmm, I’m cumming!”

But he didn’t.

Morgan broke away from his grip just in time, taking his lips away from his cock with a lewd, wet  _ pop! _ and Zach’s orgasm eluded him completely. He kicked his head back, tossed his head side to side, and stomped his foot on the floor of the car, under the dashboard. He groaned in protest when the pleasure, which had quickly mounted in him, began to dissipate. “No! Morgan! God, please, Morgan!”

Morgan wasn’t moved by Zach’s pleading, or so he concluded by the fact his mate said nothing, did nothing to ease his torment. However, Morgan did for his cock with his small, soft hand. Surely under the expectation that Zach had come down sufficiently in order to be toyed with. Long, slow strokes. Barely enough to keep his dick interested, but more than plenty to make him want. Morgan rubbed his glan with his thumb, smoothing the clear fluid oozing from him over the sensitive flesh, but only for a few seconds until it was back down and up and down the shaft, from the base of him to the very tip.

He was snapped out, momentarily, from the shocks Morgan’s ministrations induced him when his mate spoke softly, fondly. “Is there anyone else who could make you this hard, Zach?” Morgan asked impishly. Zach could see his face, but he imagined those pretty lips stretched out into a cunning smile… and he liked it. It made him throb hotly in the loins.

“No,” Zach answered simply, as though it were an undisputed truth. “There isn’t anyone like that, and there won’t ever be anyone like that.” His answer must have been satisfying because the hand pumping his cock tightened and the pace quickened. Not enough to get him off, but good.

“Do you  _ want _ me?” his mate asked with a docile tone.

There was a bit of doubt in Morgan’s voice and Zach wanted to tear the blindfold off, sweep his mate, and console all of his worries. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “I do want you. Want to be inside of you… I want you, Morgan.”

A sudden press of lips against his own startled him and he lost all words. Morgan kissed him deeply and Zach loved that their teeth clashed together. He loved the flavour of his mate, loved the way Morgan sucked on his tongue, licked inside his mouth, and bit his lips. He loved how breathless it left him, and though he presumed his mate was growing just as light-headed as he was, they didn’t stop. In fact, this kiss was the very catalyst of their lovemaking.

Morgan climbed over the center console to straddle Zach’s lap who, despite the tight space, did his best to make some room for the smaller man. It was certainly a tight fit, and it forced Morgan to curl over him so they could keep kissing wetly, but they could press their erections like this.

Morgan rolled his hips and moaned into the kiss, whereas Zach hissed at the coarse feel of jeans against his sensitive organ. He did it again, and again until Zach was raw. His hands fumbled with his mate’s fly, but he eventually got the front open and now he was trying to get them off. It was awkward, but neither of them seemed to mind really; they even laughed a little. They were too impatient to take Morgan’s pants completely off, so they only slid one of his legs out and left the rest of the garment hanging from the other. Zach’s pants were easier to remove, but then he sat, his bare ass sticky with a light sheen of perspiration, and he hated it.

Zach wrapped his hand around the both of them while Morgan moved his hips back and forth, into his closed fist and against his cock. The kiss was broken and his mate pressed his forehead to his shoulder.

“It’s not enough, Zach,” he said softly.

“Can I take off the blindfold now?” Zach asked.

“No,” Morgan replied, “Keep it on.”

He begrudgingly did as Morgan wanted him to do.

“Please fuck me… now.”

Zach was already back on the verge of coming, but he worried that refusing Morgan here, and now, might lead to rather dire consequences. So he found his mate’s hips, and then caressed his way to his asscheeks, which he pulled apart eagerly. With one hand, he kneaded the flesh of his mate’s wonderfully tight ass, and with the other, he traced through a most intimate valley, from the dimples to the—There was something filling up Morgan already, and Zach froze. “What’s this?”

Morgan breathed hard against his neck and nuzzled into the crook of it. “I… wanted to be ready. I need you inside of me, Zach.”

_ That impish little Omega! _ Zach growled, but not out of displeasure. His mate had planned for this and he was taking measures to ensure that they truly rekindled the fire between them. Zach couldn’t be angry with him. Even so, he wondered how he’d gone the whole night, through dinner and then the sometimes bumpy car ride, without showing any signs.

Zach took the base of the plug and pulled, not hard enough to pull it free from Morgan’s hole, but enough to make his breath stutter. He pulled it back until the hole released the flared base, and then pushed it back in. Doing it this way wrenched the sweetest, tiniest of keening mewls from his mate, and Zach couldn’t resist the drive to tease mercilessly. Morgan’s hips jerked and bucked, off the toy, and onto the toy. Over and over again, until he bit Zach’s neck in protest.

“Fuck me, I said!” Morgan said, his voice a wanton rasp, “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

He conceded and pulled the toy out, dropped it to the ground between his feet, and made Morgan lift his body up while he aligned his stiff cock. Then, Morgan’s body came down over him, the tight puckered hole clenching upon the initial pressure of Zach’s cock. It gave quickly and easily, however, as it was properly stretched, and when the head finally popped in, the rest was swallowed eagerly.

Zach held onto Morgan’s waist to steady him and keep him from moving just yet, but Morgan didn’t wait. He bounced up and down the length of him, skin slapping skin as he rode Zach’s cock.

_ “O-oh fuck! Fuck, Morgan!” _ Zach groaned.  _ “You’re so fucking—uuuuuhhhy yes… It’s so hot and tight!” _

Morgan was breathing hard, but Zach didn’t feel him around his neck anymore. The place where he’d been bitten was sore and throbbing with a dull ache, but Morgan was no longer necking him.

When Morgan’s pace slowed, no doubt the position straining his mate’s throbbing legs, Zach picked up the slack and fucked his hips up hard and fast. Morgan’s body lurched upwards to flee the sudden savagery of his powerful movements, but Zach brought him down just as he pounded his cock as deep as he could, and the roof kept Morgan from going too far.

_ “Uhn! Uhn! Uuuuuuhhhhhuuuuhh… It’s so f-fast… I love—love your dick, Zach,” _ Morgan mewled, swearing and moaning uncontrollably.  _ “Ah! There! God, yes! Fuck me! Uuuuuhhhh… Fffff-fuck me, please! Oh, shit—mmmgh! I’m gonna cum!” _

Zach hammered his mate’s ass, hip abs burning wonderfully with the exercise now strange to him. He gritted his teeth, focused on that angle which made Morgan’s body jerk and twitch and convulse. His own orgasm was so dangerously close that he didn’t think he might finish Morgan. But he was wrong; a few more thrusts and Morgan's insides quivered, sucking him in, clinging to him tight, and Morgan shouted profanities unlike any he’d ever heard outside of a heat.

_ “Oh God, fucking—aaaah! Yes! Fuck me stupid, Zach! Fuck me like I’m some cheap wh-who-whore—mmmm!” _

Zach’s hips stuttered when a tidal wave of sensation crashed into him.  _ “I-I’m cumming, Morgan… Cum—hnnngh!” _ he moaned and his nail dug viciously into his mate’s hips as he fucked his load in deep. One shot. Two shots. Three shots. And finally, on the fourth shot, he pulled Morgan’s whole body down and buried himself to the hilt. He held him there as he spilled his seed, and when Morgan collapsed on top of him, he relished in his mate’s comforting purr.

The world stopped for them for a time; they laid with their bodies pressed together, caught their breaths, worked through the afterglow of their orgasms, until Morgan sensibly decided he’d had enough of this position. Before he moved, however, he lifted the blindfold off of Zach’s eyes and kissed him again. And then Zach helped him put his pants back on before helping him back into the driver seat. There were baby wipes in the glove compartment, which they used to clean up their mess. Morgan’s cum was thick and milky white on Zach’s coat.

Before starting the car, Morgan turned to look at him. “I love you, Zach,” he said with the utmost honesty. Zach was pulling his boxers and pants back on.

Zach smiled and took his mate’s hand, glad to feel the other man squeezing back. “I love you more. Now… let’s go home. I’m so sweaty, my ass is sticking to the leather.”

Morgan laughed but agreed. They did just that.


	8. Day 8: Lace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 little fun facts about this short:
> 
> 1) I didn't plan for this to be NSFW; my original idea was to simply have Aislinn force Remiel into a bit of sexy lingerie and torment him for a couple of days. However... Things are slightly different, you'll notice xD
> 
> 2)I'm not making any promises, but I think I'd like this to be a 2-part type of short story. The Kinktober prompt list I'm going off of has both "Lace" and "Lingerie", so there might very well be a part 2 to this.
> 
> That's about it, I think. I hope you'll all enjoy it!
> 
> (CW: M/M, handjob, women's lingerie on men, bara/bear, nipple play)
> 
> (TW: non-con, blackmail, age-gap of 10+yrs)

Serving the royal family should have been a most honourable of occupations for a man such as Remiel who was born dirt poor and without a father to teach him to be a man. All his young life, he had dreamt of one day walking on equal grounds with those brave soldiers who stood by the kingdom’s King and Queen; they were revered by all who gaze upon them for their strength, willpower, and courage. And Remiel wanted to evoke this same image when he became a man.

Well, now that he was a man, he thought he was a very sorry one, being at the beck and call of Prince Aislinn. He was shrewd and cunning, albeit vain and self-centred. Prince Aislinn had been a pest from the very young age of three or four; he learned quickly how to trick and cheat, and had only polished his act ever since.

Remiel had never thought he could hate anyone the way he hated Aislinn, be they man or elf. Even his enemies, he felt pity for. Some of them had not chosen the life of a guard, or a soldier, but they were all sworn now, and Remiel couldn’t bring himself to despise them.

Even so, there was a part of him, deep deep down in his heart, that wished to love Prince Aislinn just as the commoners of the kingdom did. He told himself, _If I’d never learned the truth about his wretchedness, I wouldn’t be subject to such humiliations!_ Indeed. If Remiel had kept to himself that fateful night, if he hadn’t drunk himself into a delusional stupor, he wouldn’t have met the disguised prince and he wouldn’t have fallen victim to his nature.

_If only…_

He had no use of feeling sorry for himself now. Not when he had been called from the training yard, away from his men and the new recruits they were to train and whisked away to His Royal Highness, Prince Aislinn’s chambers immediately. The name alone made him want to retch.

Not long ago, Remiel would have complained of the great flights of stairs that had to be climbed to reach the prince’s chambers, but he was accustomed to it now. He regularly climbed up and down, up and down, up and down to hold an audience with the prince. Aislinn was absolutely unreasonable with his demands, going as far as to call upon him even when his body was battered and bruised.

Remiel stopped when he got to the last lantern illuminating the hallway and stared at that dreadful door. Closed. But he knew it was not locked. It was taunting him to step closer, but his legs felt weak with trepidation. Regardless, he willed himself to knock on the heavy wood, waited for his cue to go in, and then twisted the doorknob. The door creaked open.

The room was dimly lit, with only a few candelabra to illuminate the large, stony room. The first thing he noticed where the furs sprawled about the floor. Lavish pelts skinned off mighty beasts they were. And now they were laid haphazardly about the stone floor to keep the prince’s bare feet from getting too cold. The first burned hot in the fireplace, as it should. The room was too big, however, for this single fireplace to heat up properly, and the prince was ridiculous in that he adored opening the big windows to let the cool air in while the first burned. And so, Remiel was sure to find the prince lounging comfortably, in his nightclothes, by the fire.

Prince Aislinn was reading and didn’t bother to look up from the pages when Remiel slowly went to him. The book appeared old, faded, the pages tainted by time until Remiel was close enough to peer carefully. He couldn’t read it himself, but Aislinn seemed to be devouring each page, each scribbles. He assumed it was Elvish, a language solely thought to elves. A man could face some serious consequences if he was caught reading Elvish, and an even worse fate awaited those who dared teach humans how to read Elvish.

Remiel straightened his back, and when Aislinn still refused to acknowledge him, he cleared his throat. The book was closed with a sharp snap and the prince sighed, annoyed. It was Remiel who should feel irritated, not the other way around! _That spoiled bastard! I swear, one day…_ He didn’t dare entertain anymore thoughts.

“Not only are you burly and wide, but you’re also as noisy as a pig,” Prince Aislinn said mockingly. Remiel’s mood soured fast.

“You called me here, Your Royal Highness,” Remiel argued, but with undeserved respect.

“I did,” Aislinn said. “I called you here to entertain me, not disrupt me.”

Remiel opened his mouth, but he had nothing worthwhile to say, and the look on the prince’s face told him he’d do well to hold his tongue. The prince rose from his chair and went to the bookcase where he kept his books. He had such an impressive collection, and in all sorts of languages at that! Then, Aislinn went to a small, round table upon which they had often played chess together—the Prince was also fond of playing cards, but never with him, for some odd reason.

A small box was placed upon the table, but Aislinn didn’t open it. He waved for Remiel to step closer so that he may open it himself. He undid the ribbon whilst Aislin talked about how he had acquired the box:

“I’ve heard talk around the courtyard, Remiel,” he said nonchalantly. “Some of the guards seem to think that it will soon be your birthday.”

Remiel’s hands froze when he finally opened the box. Its contents sickened him. He knew where this was going. Oh, he just knew it! More humiliation! His lower jaw tensed and his heart pinched with an ugly darkness.

“Is that true, Remiel?” Aislinn asked impatiently.

Remiel gritted his teeth. “Yes. It is.”

The prince then struck him with a series of questions in rapid succession. “When?”

“In two days.”

“Have you any plans?”

“Yes.” Aislinn wasn’t entitled to know about everything.

“With whom?”

“Friends.”

“And how old will you be?”

“Thirty-three.”

“And do you know how old _I_ am, Remiel?”

Remiel’s mouth opened soundlessly around an answer which he couldn’t utter. He was stunned by the question, curious about the prince’s sudden change of attention. His answer, when it finally came, was faltered. “I-I… Twenty-one, Your Royal Highness.”

Aislinn smiled at him, that same sweet, devout smile he gave the populace, but Remiel wasn’t fooled by it. “You are correct,” he said triumphantly, and a chill bit into Remiel. “What’s inside?”

The prince’s smug expression suggested he knew full well of the box’s contents. At this, Remiel didn’t even try to hide his disapproving frown. His eyes dipped back down. He didn’t dare reach in. After a moment, he said, “Women’s lingerie, Your Royal Highness…”

Aislinn whistled. “That so?” The prince smirked as he snatched the box from Remiel who did nothing to keep it for himself. He did not want it.

“My father is quite fond of you, Remiel. I’m sure you know that,” the prince spoke idly as he pulled each piece of delicate lace undergarments from the box and laid it carefully onto the table’s surface. Now, he had the stockings laid out. Aislinn continued, “Naturally, when he heard of your birthday, he insisted the royal family offer the captain of the guards a most gracious birthday present.” A dainty pair of lace panties was now sprawled out on the table. “He’s also mentioned seeing us out and about for a while now. He’s under the impression that you and I are friends!” Aislinn laughed. “And so, he demanded that I offer you a gift of my own! To… show my gratitude.”

At last, when a lace bralette rested on the table, the Prince relinquished the box.

If the King knew what kind of son he had raised, surely he would be mortified. This gift was perfect evidence to attest to the prince’s ill intentions, to Aislinn’s true nature. If he could bring this to the King, then—no… Remiel couldn’t do that. Aislinn was far too clever, and now he understood the purpose of the prince’s earlier questioning: Aislinn would claim that he’d been taken advantage of due to his significantly smaller size and his young age. Whether it be true or not, the court would take the kingdom’s beloved prince’s word over his.

Remiel scoffed. If Aislinn weren’t so hellbent on making his life miserable, he would be inclined to find the prince charming and sensible. No doubt about it, the prince would make for quite the nasty battle opponent to face. He wasn’t all too strong, or physically impressive, but he was crafty. Worst of all, however, he hated losing. And he absolutely hated what he was about to do!

Remiel bowed his head. “I thank you, Your Royal Highness. This is certainly a most gracious present. Will that be all?” he asked, feeling a little cunning himself, but his confidence dwindled.

“Strip,” Aislinn said curtly.

He couldn’t possibly mean…

“Strip,” the prince said again, with a fair amount of strength in his voice.

He didn’t want to, but he knew the consequences of defying this particular elf. Even if he’d tried to resist and rebel, his body reacted of its own volition, almost as if his muscles knew something he did not. He undid the light armour he wore when he spared his men, and then the light chainmail—he had a much heavier one for when he went to battle against an enemy. He removed his shirt, his blouse, and his undershirt. One piece at a time, he bared his body before his prince. He groaned when, upon doing away with his breeches, he found his penis embarrassingly hard, jutting straight up and out from the dense bush of dark pubic curls.

“Yes, keep going. Completely naked, Remiel.”

With a defeated sigh, Remiel stepped out of the bundled garments at his angles and stood before Aislinn, his cock shamefully hard, and his skin prickled by shivers from the cold drafts coming in through the windows.

Aislinn, who inspected him, seemed to approve of his shape. Tall. Bulky. Scars of past battles and newer ones against clumsy newbies. Short, wavy brown hair. A very dark complexion with full, shapely lips and argent eyes. Some regarded Remiel as a monstrous brute, whereas others fantasized about him, he knew, when they slept at night. Remiel fantasized that he would only ever bare himself nude in front of a loving wife.

The prince lifted the stocking and brought them to Remiel who looked confused at the lace garments.

“Put them on, then!” Aislinn finally urged.

This snapped Remiel back into the present, and he loathed the place he had returned to. He was given nothing to cling to, or sit comfortably whilst he slipped the stockings over his legs. Surprisingly, the fit was snug. Not that he thought about… Had Aislinn called for this to be made to fit him specifically? It couldn’t. That wasn’t possible. Before he could protest, Aislinn forced the panties onto him.

The outfit was eventually complete and Remiel felt a fool for wearing something so delicate. Even if the lace felt soft and supple against his skin, it squeezed him in strange, yet arousing places. Already, he could see the wetness within the lace as his cock leaked through.

Aislinn stared at him, openly deriding, mocking. The prince didn’t even try to suppress a laugh. “Dear me, Remi! Look at you! You look absolutely silly!”

Remi did not dare look himself over in the looking-glass.

“I want you to wear this from now on!” the prince declared. “Every day. I want you to wear it wherever you go.”

“B-but—“ Remiel was so mortified and indignant that he had no words. “Every day?”

Aislinn rolled his eyes. “Yes, Remiel. Every day.”

Remiel’s convictions were, once again, torn from him. Aislinn had him by the throat, like a collar he had attached a leash to and dragged along. He wanted to fight against this invisible force pulling him along, but instead, he accepted it and nodded. Aislinn looked pleased with his demure attitude now.

“Can I at least… take it off when I piss?” Remiel asked sheepishly.

“Of course! Just lower the panties as you normally would and take a piss.”

Aislinn moved around the table, came to him, looking up and grinning like a cat, and flicked the erection encased in lace. Remiel flinched instinctively and Aislinn chuckled. One flick of the tip of the prince’s finger became two, and then three, and then he was so desensitized by the act of flicking his penis, surely done so as to humiliate him further, that he no longer flinched. But that was no fun for an impudent prince. Sly as he was, he pressed his palm over the lace where Remiel’s penis was and kneaded the hard shaft.

Remiel flinched back and bit his lips to mute any undignified noise from leaving his mouth. All he had to offer the prince for his satisfaction was a throaty grunt of surprise. “Hmmmpf!”

Aislinn kept at it, stroking the length of his cock, making him leak, making his thighs tremble as he was made to stand. A hand then slipped under the undergarment to feel his flesh directly. Remiel shuddered, and at that moment, he let out a shameful little noise, just the tiniest of moans, but it was clear that Aislinn had heard it.

His cock was stroked from head to base with only the smallest dribble of pre to ease the friction. It was typical of the prince to make it difficult for him to enjoy, but he’d somehow gotten used to it, and the dry rubbing didn’t bother him anymore. Then, his balls were kneaded, caressed almost tenderly as deft fingers toyed with the most sensitive part of him, and Remiel tensed as if expecting to be hurt. Aislinn didn’t hurt him, though, and for that, he was thankful. He’d rather the prince play with his lick than to suffer a cruel squeeze or pull of his balls.

“Look at yourself… Such a bitch,” Aislinn said. Remiel didn’t answer. He might as well be exactly what the prince pretended him to be!

His hips were rolling along with the hand pumping his erection. He tried to will himself to stop, to not feel good at the hands of such a ruthless being, but before he could take a step back and away, Aislinn’s mouth took his left nipple into his mouth and sucked on the sensitive flesh. He moaned, hissing in delightful pain-pleasure when the prince bit his teat and thrust his hips forward.

Remiel hadn’t always been that sensitive, but the prince was so fond of playing with his nipples that they had grown large and dark and puffy. The hardened into a very hard point at the mere brush of his undershirt.

His panties were pushed down to free his cock and Aislinn rubbed him faster. The hand job, along with the lip, tongue, and teeth on his nipple, he couldn’t keep his voice contained. It wasn’t too bad at first, when he mostly whined, high and short, but now he had put the most popular whore in the kingdom to great shame.

 _“Uuuuuuhhhh! Ahhh… Ahn! N-no, you can’t—hnnngh!”_ Remiel said in a breathy whimper.

Aislinn moved his mouth to the right nipple, leaving the left swollen and overstimulated, and brought his free hand up to pinch, tweak, and soothe the angry flesh. Remiel’s hands, which had been clasped behind his back until now, had to take hold of the smaller being to balance himself. He bucked his hips hard into the tight fist simultaneously jerking his cock and left his head fall forward as the prince’s tongue teased him with kitten licks.

When his hips lost all control of the tempo, Aislinn’s hand quickened deliberately, pulling him towards the edge and pushing him into the pit. The swirling pool of heat in his lower belly burst and his cock spurted thick strings of cum. His knees buckled, but he somehow managed to remain standing. Aislinn kept pumping him hard, tight, fast, until he was too sensitive and he pushed the prince back. That was a mistake. A big mistake.

Aislinn glared at him, both shocked and affronted by what he’d just done, and Remiel shrank where he stood. “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness,” he apologized, although he felt an apology was not necessary, “I didn’t mean to push you—I shouldn’t have pushed you—my body moved of its own will.”

Aislinn didn’t seem convinced or placated in the slightest. His face became dark and sinister, and Remiel knew then that he would come to regret this within the next couple of days. _What’s the little prick going to use to blackmail me with this time?_ he wondered.

To his astonishment, Aislinn turned away from him and went to his bookcase. He waved his hand to dismiss Remiel. “Take your clothes and go. I will call upon you once I require your services.”

 _Services, he says. More like slavery._ Remiel saw himself, now, as a glorified whore, and when he retrieved his clothes to dress himself, he understood exactly why. He shouldn’t let the prince treat him in this fashion. He had more pride than that! Or… did he?

By the time he was dressed, his new outfit now hidden under the weight of his layers and light armour, the prince had taken a seat by the fireplace with another book. Remiel stared at him, expecting to be reprimanded for not leaving sooner, but Aislinn did not address him. So Remiel left feeling refreshed from his orgasm, but also terribly ashamed. If he crossed one, he would tell a maid to go up to clean the prince’s chamber.

Until then, he was made to shift uncomfortably in the lace underwear he still wore.


	9. Day 9: Begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Murder, pirates being ruthless

It was a bright sunny day on the calm ocean with steady winds that should get them to St. Mary’s Island by nightfall, at which point they would be able to dock the Poseidon’s Deceit to have her cleaned and repaired. Their last plunder had been a blazing success and Giovanni couldn’t find himself in a better mood.

That is, until a cacophony of shouting and bickering broke out on the main deck, just outside of his chambers. Seamen had a reputation for being drunkards and gamblers, but Giovanni was strict about such a life of immortality.

When he stomped out of the captain’s chamber, bellowing, “Shut up! All y’all! Shut your traps!” he was shocked to find that his men weren’t drinking or gambling. No. There was… a woman. A pretty little thing in the midst of foul pirates, aged ten or eleven, no older than thirteen surely. She was trembling, curled in on herself as the men tried to pry her open, and when she looked up at Giovanni with wet, pleading eyes, he understood immediately why they were quarrelling. Her eyes were a striking sea-green and the breeze carried the scent of an Omega.

Pirates did not take people places. Pirates did not take good people at all, especially women and Omegas, unless it was to force them into piracy. If he hadn’t brought her on this voyage, then one of his men had.

“What’s a woman doing on my ship!?” he asked, looking to the seamen accusingly.

Surly, a jittery young man with a limp and a lazy eye approached him with his stupid smile. Giovanni concluded that he had been the one to find the girl. “She-she-she was hidin’, sir. I found her myself down in the hold, I did. Found her  _ stealin’ _ , sir.” That last part, Surly had stressed as though he were scandalized.

Giovanni’s eyes narrowed. “What did the girl steal?”

“I found her drinkin’ the ale, sir! Straight from the barrel,” Surly said.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but he was cut off when one of the cooks stepped forward and claimed, “And she stole my knife! I found it in the wench’s petticoat. She’s a thief, that one.”

Another man rose up to the opportunity to speak up his own claims and, once more, they all began shouting at the same time. Their mingled accusations and her shrieks of terror soon became painfully irritating. Giovanni did not have the patience to deal with this commotion. He unsheathed his pistol, pointed the barrel to the skies and fired a warning shot. All at once, the voices tapered into quietude, with nothing to break the silence but the distant echoes of the firing.

Giovanni twisted his neck, rolled his shoulders, and shuddered at the satisfying crunch his bones gave. His men would be too unruly with a woman on board, he knew. Had he known her, perhaps, he would have felt a shred of pity for the girl. She was unlucky to have climbed aboard Giovanni’s ship because he, unlike some more respectable pirates, did not care about her.

He waved his hand. “Throw her to the sharks!”

Just as he said that, the latch leading into the ship’s bowel was flung open, and a powerful cry deafened the entire crew. “No!!” Before Giovanni could jump back, he was tackled to the floor, and straddled by a scrawny young man, eighteen years old, who struck him wildly with a flurry of fists. “No!! I won’t let you!” he kept yelling, enraged to tears. Too bad for him, it was clear that he’d either never been in a fight before, or he was blinded by some vile furry. The only blow he managed to land went straight to the right side of Giovanni’s jaw. The rest were blocked.

When he’d had enough, Giovanni flipped them, throwing the boy down face-first against the grainy wood and made swift work of capturing his wrists and yanking them behind his back. He held them bruisingly tight with one hand, making the boy hiss and yelp out in pain, and with the other, he grabbed a handful of the thick blond curls at the back of his head, and he yanked the boy up.

He kicked and squirmed and wept, but Giovanni held him with a vice-like grip which tightened a little bit more the harder he struggled. Giovanni felt his tiny wrist bones crack in his palm just before he went limp.

“If… If you toss my sister to the sharks, I’ll kill you!” the boy said bravely, although his voice cracked with sobs. “I’ll kill all you wretched demons…”  _ His sister? _ The two did bear quite a striking resemblance, although she was clearly much younger than he.

Giovanni licked his lip and spat blood. The kid’s punch wasn’t all that mean, but it still managed to split his lip. He snorted at the spec of crimson on the dark wood of the deck. The corners of his lips twitched into a sadistic smile. “Is that right?” he said with a mocking bout of laughter he shared with the other seamen. “And how d’you figure that, boy?”

“Curse you, filthy pirates! You oughta hang! All of you! Curse you!” the boy spat.

Another voice, an older and unfamiliar man’s voice, erupted from below the latch. “Let me go this very instant, you devil!”

“We found another one, Cap’tain!”

It took three men to hoist a middle-aged, graying man from the hold, but he didn’t fight quite as much as the boy did. He had a dense, matted clump of salt-and-pepper wiry hairs covering the lower portion of his face, but he shared the same sea-green eyes as the girl. Giovanni assumed him to be her father, and judging by the way he suddenly lurched forward upon finding her encircled by five ruthless men, he felt he had guessed right. When he became too rowdy, the men knocked him upside the head with the butt of a pistol. That eased his spirits a little.

Three stowaways? On Giovanni’s ship? That was impossible! Unless they had somehow managed to sneak in when they had last been accosted, but they had not seen land for well over ten weeks now. Had they been on board all along? It certainly would explain a lot of strange happenings, but Giovanni couldn’t bring himself to believe that they could’ve fooled the entire crew like this.

“How did you get on my ship?” Giovanni asked the older man.

It was the boy who answered through gritted teeth, “We’re runaways—kuh!!” Giovanni twisted his hair hard.

“Shut your trap, boy!” Giovanni hissed. “When I have a question for you, I’ll ask you myself.”

“My father can’t answer you! He’s sick!”

All eyes fell upon the middle-aged man who, just as the boy had claimed, looked unwell. His face was flushed bright red and he was sweating profusely, and his eyes dimmed when he looked away from his daughter. The men turned to Giovanni. Without hesitating, he nodded for him to be thrown overboard.

This caused a new uproar from the young man Giovanni held, while the girl shrieked and wept. This time, he fought so hard that he’d almost broken free. Their voices were only loud for a moment, however. The girl brought her hands to her face and cried.

“You’re demented,” the boy sobbed openly, but with deep hatred in his eyes.

“As was your father,” Giovanni replied, his tone cold and monotonous. “Had your father been a sensible man, he wouldn’t have brought his children onboard a pirate ship.”

Those words seemed to break something within the boy. He was subdued. The hatred in his eyes never left him, but now it was tainted with a pang of sorrowful guilt. “He tried to stop me… He tried… Oh, God, have mercy. What have I done?” He wept now, from the very bottom of his heart, just like his sister did, and Giovanni had no qualms with releasing him so he could drop to his knees.

It was better this way; men died, at sea, from all sorts of diseases. What Giovanni had seen in the stowaways’ father was a dead man waiting for his hour to come. He would’ve been lucky to go on living another day in his state.

“I’ve changed my mind!” Giovanni’s voice carried over his men. “We’ll keep them until we reach St. Mary’s. We’ll sell them to the slave traders.” There was a general round of accord. “Bind their hands and legs together. Tie them to the mast. No food or drink! They’ve had plenty already. But first, let’s inspect the girl!”

The seamen cheered, and once again, the girl was crowded by the pack of lusting pirates who pulled at her dress, petticoats, and undergarments. She screamed and pleaded for them to stop, let her go, to have mercy. She begged for God to help her, making Giovanni scoff.  _ God won’t help you here, silly girl. _ The men laughed and jested, touched and groped and relieved their curiosities. While he wasn’t interested in her, Giovanni watched on with merriment

“Simon! Simon!” the girl called in a thick, French accent. Over and over, she urged her brother to her aid, but the boy was just as petrified as she was --

Giovanni spun on his heels at the feel of extra hands searching his hip. The clever thing had used his sister’s distress as a diversion to swipe his other pistol from its sheath and aimed directly at his face. Giovanni only had enough time to grab the boy’s arm so that the shot fired only grazed the side of his face, from the outer corner of his eyes to the hairline.

Giovanni… wasn’t playing anymore.

They stood at a standstill. He stared down at a much smaller, yet much more impudent rat who glared right back at him. There was a killer in the boy’s eyes. Behind those tears. There was a killer in the boy’s eyes.

“If you want to live to see tomorrow, you’d do well not to turn your back on me,” the boy said smugly. “I’ll kill you.”

Giovanni believed him. More precisely, he believed this young man, if given the chance and the motive, could kill a man. He wasn’t about to let himself be intimidated. He squeezed the hand wielding the pistol until the boy was forced to drop the firearm. He smirked then and clasped his hand, instead, around that lithe throat. The young man began to struggle, but it was all in vain. Giovanni dragged him, single-handed, by the throat to the edge of his ship where he lifted the boy and held him in the void at arm’s length. The boy was choking now, sputtering helplessly as he searched for the ground beneath his feet. Unfortunately, he was in for quite a drop into freezing cold waters. Only one quick glance below and his mind was no longer on the hand squeezing his throat.

His hands scrambled for purchase, but Giovanni’s arm offered him very little. His eyes grew wide with worry. “P-please,” he croaked. “Please don’t! Don’t do it!”

Giovanni grinned. “And let you live so you might stab me in the back? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“N-no, please! I’ll do—nnguh!—anything, I swear!”

“I don’t think so, my boy. You’re going to join your father in his watery grave,” he said. At the mention of his father, the boy voided his bladder, pissing in fear of a cruel and cold demise. This did not go unnoticed. Not by Giovanni or the crew of seamen. “Oh, now what would your father think of you…”

A man pointed whilst they all laughed. “Hey! Lookit, we got ourselves a pissing boy!”

“You scared? You a scared little pussy boy?” another one jested mockingly.

But this frightened stowaway had no thought to spare on those who made fun of him when all that kept him from drowning was… a hand. If Giovanni’s strength should falter, he would plunge to certain death.

“Beg, little pussy boy! Beg for your life!” a voice called from the mass of unruly men. “Beg for our captain to spare your life!”

_ What a brilliant idea! _ Giovanni thought with a sick, sick grin. “Yes, my boy. Beg for your life.”

Fat tears clung to the boy’s lower lashline now. His lips trembled and he was red in the face. His nostrils flared like that of a spooked horse. “P-please, sir,” his voice was small, “Please, I beg you… I’m begging you. Please have mercy on me. Think of my sister…”

“Once we reach St. Mary’s Island, you and your sister will be sold into slavery. It’s highly unlikely that either of you will be bought by the same owner,” Giovanni said.

The boy seemed to consider his answer. Finally, he said, “I know. But until then, please let us be together.”

Giovanni wasn’t displeased with the answer he received. He squeezed the boy’s neck one last time, making him gasp for breath whilst tapping his arm for mercy. Giovanni pulled the boy to him, so he could murmur to his ear for him alone to hear, “I have one condition—“ Giovanni’s breath caught in his lungs.

_ That scent… I know it. Orion? _

He pushed the boy back out towards the sea to study his face better. He looked nothing like Orion— _ his Orion— _ but his scent… An Omega. No. Not just any Omega. His Omega! Claimed and mated by him, and yet his neck bared no mark. It was happening again, and yet it seemed like just yesterday he mourned the death of his mate. And now he’d come back. Again…

He realized then that he would never be free of his curse.

The stowaway’s panicked pleas spurred him out of his thoughts. “A-anything! Please! I’ll do anything, I swear it!”

_ I swear it! _ Three simple words, spoken in a completely different voice, from a completely different mouth, and yet he saw Orion flash before his eyes. His heart gave a painful pinch and he felt his knees grow weak with something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He threw the boy, swung his arm before his grip caved under the sudden weakness in his heart, and sent him crashing, face-first, back onto the deck. Giovanni had to distance himself. Lock the part of him which was once human and find his peace where no hurt could reach him. He wouldn’t support losing his mate again.

Giovanni didn’t have the luxury of hesitating, however, and he had to react quickly so as to not alarm his men. “Tie the girl to the mast!” he said, willing his voice the strength he knew he didn’t have. “No one is to touch her! If I hear her scream, I will cut your hands!”

The crew understood this as a promise. They executed his orders dutifully.

“What about the boy, sir?”

Giovanni looked at the stowaway, at the host for Orion’s mutilated soul, and the boy looked back at him. Had Orion ever looked at him like that? With so much inhibited hatred?

“I want him stripped, scrubbed of his filth, and mounted to the statue on my chambers.”

The man beside him blinked hard, dumbfounded it seemed. “Mounted to the statue? Y-you don’t… You can’t possibly mean…?”

“Yes, I do.”

“But, sir, that’s sodomy!” the man said in a low, scandalized whisper.

“Would you like to take his place, then?” Giovanni asked. The man shook his head. “Then shut up and do as I say.”


	10. Day 10: Spanking (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: M/M, omegaverse, BDSM - impact play/spanking, aftercare, rimming, anal fingering, edging

**Day 10: Spanking**

All of Zachary’s research amounted to this precise moment where he had Morgan, his husband, naked, bound by the wrists and bent over a small table. He had everything he thought he might need: lotion ( Toulôn’s replenishing body crème was highly praised), a spritz bottle of cold water, Morgan’s favourite candies, water and juice, wet wipes, towels, and lube. Neither of them were new to BDSM, and so they understood the concept of safe, sane, and consensual, as well as the pain scale and yellow, red practices. Zach knew Morgan could be trusted to be honest, and Morgan trusted Zach to stop if he was asked to. The rules of their scene were simple enough, and they had both discussed them extensively before, but Zach repeated them for good measure:

“We’re going to start with a warm-up session to give you the opportunity to get used to being spanked. During this time, I’ll only use my hand and deliver no more than five consecutive strikes before consulting. I’ll never strike the same cheek twice in a row.” He lifted Morgan’s head so their eyes met. “Is that good?”

Morgan nodded.

Zach continued: “Once we’ve gauged your pain threshold and tolerance, we’re going to move on and start using my shoes. At first, we’re going to start with reps of soft, consecutive blows, and you will count them. We’ll consult then.

“The harder I strike you, Morgan, the longer the pause between blows. I want you to keep track of them and count out loud.” Of course, he would keep track of them too, but forcing his Omega to count the blows aloud would help Zach assess whether or not they should take a break. “If you miss a count, I may ask you to start counting from the very beginning. Are you okay with that, Morgan?”

Again, Morgan nodded.

“Good,” he said.

“You’re being so professional,” the Omega said, teasing. “Are you sure you haven’t been doing this all your life?”

Zach smiled softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know and I trust you.”

Zach let them fall into a comfortable silence. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation or mistrust in Morgan’s pale hazel eyes, and a thrill overtook his heart at the sight of the amount of sheer faith his Omega had in him.

He only had a few more points he wanted to address, so he cleared his throat and said, “Speaking without permission will get you punished—five extra strikes for each offence. However, you’re free to use ‘yellow’ and ‘red’ at your own discretion; say ‘yellow’ if you need me to slow down and ‘red’ if you need a break. If you want to end the scene completely, say the safe word—we agreed on ‘ladder’—and I’ll stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” the Omega said.

“What’s the safe word?” Zach asked.

“Ladder,” his Omega replied.

“And if you need me to slow down?”

“Yellow,” his Omega replied.

“If you need a break?”

“Red,” his Omega replied.

“You’ll be given all the water you want between reps. If you ever feel light-headed, I want you to tell me right away and I’ll give you something to eat. If I feel you’re too far gone, I might choose to end this scene. And if I break your skin, this scene will end,” Zach said with a deep sense of responsibility.

He looked at Morgan who read his expectant look accurately. “I understand,” the Omega said, swallowing loudly. They were finally starting.

Zach took a deep breath to keep himself calm.

“From this point forward, and until the end of this scene, you will address me as ‘Sir’. I am your master, and you, the pet and I will address you accordingly. You will obey me, answer my questions honestly and without hesitation,” his tone shifted impeccably and didn’t falter as he spoke. Whatever uncertainties Zachary had carried with himself were gone now, concealed from his pet, and he became every bit the Sir he wanted to portray. Confident. Assertive. Sympathetic.

His pet didn’t seem to fall so easily in his new role, not that it bothered Sir any as he’d relish every opportunity he would get, from now on forth, to reform and mould his Omega into the perfect pet.

Zach walked around the desk, his hand moving from his pet’s chin to his bare shoulder and down the length of his back. “You’re smiling, pet,” he said as he reached the other man’s backside. “Are you excited or embarrassed?” He was pleased to hear nothing out of his pet. He wouldn’t have to teach him his place.

He squeezed the cheeks with both hands, kneading the flesh he would soon beat, and spread them apart to reveal a twitching pucker. He kicked his pet’s legs wide apart, making it hard to hide the half-chub between his legs.

“Already getting excited,” he said to himself.

He smoothed his hands over pale flesh, allowing the gentle feel to become recognizable to his pet’s body. He rubbed the Omega’s rear, massaging the cheeks, gliding the edge of his hands between them, and touching every inch of his pet. It was his right. His pet. His body. Gradually, his touches warmed the skin and seemed to arouse his pet whose hips gave the faintest rolls, even twitching whenever Sir’s fingers glided along the valley of his ass. Sir didn’t reward or punish this.

Finally, Sir brought his right hand back a little and landed a gentle slap to his pet’s right cheek. This one gasped and his whole body jerk, but there seemed to be no pain inflicted. He waited a few seconds, but no mark appeared. It wasn’t his intention yet.

“Easy, pet,” he said soothingly as he caressed the spot he’d just slapped.

They had done this before, light spanking, during sex and a few other playful romping sessions. They both knew Morgan could find his pleasure with a good slap on the ass to spice things up every now and again, but could Sir’s pet find his release through the sole act of spanking? They would find out today.

“Keep your legs spread like that,” Sir said, forcing them a little wider. “I’m going to start spanking you. I want you to count loud and clear.”

He reared his hand back and brought it down on the left cheek, hard enough to make the flesh jiggle.  _ Slap! _ His pet called out, “One.” No pain. No hiss. No strain. His pet’s cock and balls danced lightly between the pet’s legs from the force of the blow. Sir gave the cheek a soothing stroke.

He waited for his pet’s body to relax again before delivering the second blow on the right cheek.

_ Slap! _

“Two.”

Sir caressed his pet’s rear again, waited, and then gave out the third blow. His pet received all five of them graciously, patiently. His voice was clear and steady as he counted, and though his body was still prone to jerking at the feel of Sir’s hand slapping his rear, his reactions were slowly growing less intense. His body was accepting the beating. Most impressive of all was the stiffness of the cock dangling between his legs. Sir’s pet was fully erect by the fifth slap.

“Good boy,” Sir praised earnestly. He gave his pet’s rear a tender massage, loving the slight hue of colour now flushing across the skin. No more than a rosy blush.

Finally, he asked, “How was it, pet? On the pain scale, how was it? You can answer me.”

“A one, Sir,” his pet said. Sir caught a hint of smugness in his pet’s voice as if his pet was trying to challenge him. If so, then he had to be properly corrected. Sir ignored it for now; if his pet was indeed an impudent brat, he wouldn’t remain as such much longer.

“A one,” Sir repeated, confirming. “Then five more slaps. Again, you are to count them loud and clear for me to hear.”

This time, when Sir’s hand struck his pet’s right cheek, the body hardly reacted and his pet counted flawlessly. He petted the skin for a few seconds before landing another slap to the left cheek. His pet performed better than he could’ve hoped, but he was indeed full of himself, full of pride with every praise, and emboldened by every slap.

As the spanking carried on, Sir’s hand fell harder on his pet’s buttocks, and by the last rep, the cheeks were a soft red and the skin felt hot under his hand. His pet’s voice was not so strained yet, but he was panting and his legs were trembling.

_ Slap! _

“One,” his pet called quickly.

_ Slap! _

“Two,” his pet’s voice was a little breathy.

_ Slap! _

“Three,” his pet cleared his throat before speaking.

_ Slap! _

“Four,” his pet said, gasping and choking on a hitched breath.

_ Slap! _

“F-five!” his pet sputtered breathlessly.

That last clap came with a sharp, upwards flick of Sir’s wrist and his entire hand struck the cheek. There was no more, though. His hand trembled, and a strange elation came over him, and he had to drop Sir to process the scene. “Let’s take a short break,” he said softly.

“Can I have some water?” Morgan asked.

Zach didn’t untie his Omega to have him drink. He held the bottle at a gentle angle and helped Morgan drink. Like this, he could gauge the exhaustion in his mate’s eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when the Omega finished his drink.

Morgan smiled weakly. “Fine. That last one kinda hurt…”

“The last one?” he parroted, “The last slap, or the last rep?”

“The last slap,” Morgan answered. “It was starting to sting a little.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

Silence.

Morgan chewed on his lip and wiggled over the desk a little. A strange gesture seeing as he was bound by the wrists, but Zach quickly understood that his mate was merely making himself comfortable. His hips were digging into the edge of the desk. That couldn’t feel all too good. He looked more confident then. “No… Let’s keep going. Like we planned.”

Zach was torn between dread and excitement; he’d never hurt Morgan like this, let alone struck any Omega per the past. He’d already inflicted more pain onto his mate than ever before, now he’d be inflicting more. Could he do it?

“At one condition,” Zach said. “Please don’t fight me. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to. I need you to be honest about how you feel. It’s not about you showing off.”

“I’m not.”

Zach interrupted his mate, “You are. My Omega’s given me five beautiful babies… I’ve never meant someone as resilient as you, Morgan. You have nothing to prove to me.” He knew he’d hit the nail right on the head, but he didn’t insist his mate agree with him outloud. This wasn’t about humiliating his Omega by catching him in a lie, but rather…

Exploring new ways to satisfy each other.

He stood up and propped his foot up on the desk to untie his laces. He did so close to Morgan’s head. The Omega flinched, but Zach wanted him to see exactly what he would be using. When his shoe came off, he showed the sole to his mate.

He’d bought this pair of leather oxford shoes, particularly for this occasion. The sole was thick and smooth. This was the first time they had ever been worn.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, but when he saw the way Morgan looked at the shoe in his hand, the Omega’s eyes wide like saucers, he knew immediately that his mate would need a dominating presence to lead him on. If he wanted it, that is.

_ Sir _ snapped his finger to get Morgan to look up at him and he forced his voice to be even and strong, yet soft and reassuring. “Answer me, pet.”

It took the Omega a moment, but he eventually replied, “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Sir said. He dragged the sole along his pet’s back, gently patted his rear with it, and hummed disapprovingly when his pet tense. His legs were still spread wide, just as he’d left him before, and for that, he thought praise was in order. He touched his pet’s hole with his middle, without penetrating, circling slowly around the tight ring. “You kept your legs apart… Such a good boy. So obedient and willing. Giving his master a perfect view of his most vulnerable places…” The pressure he applied on his pet’s entrance was mild, but he was sucked in regardless. Slowly. One knuckle at a time. He began moving his finger to stretch his pet’s entrance without necessarily pleasuring him. Pleasure, at this point, hadn’t been earned.

Sir’s pet squirmed a little, hips twisting and tilting to guide his finger where it felt good, and he let it happen. He wanted his pet compliant for the next series of questions. He started with: “What’s the safeword, pet?”

“L… L-ladder, Sir,” his pet answered hesitantly.

Sir praised his pet by curling his finger, making him gasp and buck into the desk. Sir then asked, “Do you remember what to say if you need a break?”

His pet answered a little bit faster, “Red, Sir.”

Sir stroked his pet from the inside. He moved the shoe over his pet’s back whilst this one seemed at war with himself; his body was twitching and his voice was escaping him in soft little panting breaths, although he was trying to hold himself still. Sir’s eyes moved from the back of his pet’s shoulders, down the lean line of his spine, over his buttocks, and down to the clear fluid streaming from the cock between his pet’s legs. He smiled and carried on with his questioning.

“And if you need me to slow down, pet, what do you say?” Sir asked as he reeled his hand back in preparation to strike his pet’s ass.

“I-I say ‘yellow’, S-Sir—” the words had hardly left the pet’s lips that a sharp  _ Smack! _ sounded out and he yelped, “Ah!” His insides quivered and Sir relished in the sudden tightness. Imagining his pet squeezing around his cock like that made him twitch in his slacks.

Sir gave his pet a few moments to collect his thoughts. He retrieved his finger from the pet’s passage, much to both their disappointment, and left the shoe to rest on the pet’s lower back. He rubbed his pet’s rear, kneaded the cheeks, pinching and squeezing the meatiest parts, his thumbs into the hollows, and very intentionally brushing over that hungry hole. Finally, he gave the right cheek a flick from the tip of his fingers and he sat on the edge of the desk, his back to his pet’s head. He took the shoe in his right hand and held the pet’s waist steady with his left.

“We’re going to start easy with five hits. I want you to count them. If you miss a count or count too slowly, I’ll have you start over,” Sir said. As he hadn’t asked for his pet’s confirmation, he was reasonably quiet.

The first slap came to the left cheek, this time, and it didn’t land quite as softly as Sir had anticipated it to because his pet immediately tensed and stuttered a meek, “O-one.” The second one didn’t come easier, but it also didn’t come harder, and the pet’s reaction lessened because of it. He counted well and kept his legs apart, and by the fifth strike, his rear had a nice blush to it. Two beautiful cheeks covered in uniform pink splotches. Sir made sure to avoid his balls as they swung between his legs.

The spanking paused after the fifth hit so that Sir could stroke those perfect asscheeks and soothe the ache and sting. The only time Sir had felt skin so hot had been from one of Zach’s feverish pups. He marvelled at the flesh, even bent down to kiss it.

“How was that on a scale of one to ten, pet?” he asked. “Answer me.”

Sir knew his pet was considering a lie. Nonetheless, the pet answered with, “A four, Sir.”

“A four, huh? That’s quite a leap from a one.” He wasn’t chastising his pet, and to prove it, he pushed a finger inside his pet’s body again and gently rolled his balls in the palm of his hand. The angle was a little strange, but Sir managed to work his pet’s cock back to full hardness before he stopped and picked the shoe back up.

“Five hits again. I want you to count them.”

Sir lifted the shoe again and he swung his arm to strike hard at his pet’s bottom. The sole cracked loudly when it struck the hot flesh, and the pet flinched, but he dutifully uttered, “O-one.”

_ Crack! _ came a second slap of the sole, cutting through the pet’s breath and striking something excitingly new in Sir’s gut. Something powerful and primal. Something he needed to control immediately.

“Two!” his pet forced himself to call just as Sir considered making them start over.

The shoe came down again, a little harder, and Sir’s pet flinched hard, but his voice didn’t falter again, leaving Sir a little sullen.

_ Crack! _

“Three!”

_ Crack! _

“Four!”

_ Crack! _

“Five!”

Sir’s pet jerked up after the last slap. It had obviously been a painful last blow that had made his pet squirm, but it was the whimper that caught his attention. He put the shoe down and soothed the reddened flesh with soft caresses.

He checked with his pet to make sure he wanted to continue, offered him some water, a few gummies, and a few gentle murmurs of support. Sir spanked his pet again, the same as last, no harder, no softer, and was pleased to see him take the strikes with greater ease. When he felt his pet’s struggle might be too great for simple words of praise, he fingered him until he was hard and leaking again. Every now and again, when he felt either of them needed it,  _ Zach _ called for a break to assess  _ Morgan’s _ wellbeing, as well as his own. Then the scene resumed; Zach was Sir again, and Morgan became his pet.

And Sir absolutely loved to work his pet until he was a squirming, whimpering mess. He’d brought his pet at an eight now, and each hit was now separated by enough time to give the pet the opportunity to settle and breathe.  _ Almost, _ Sir kept telling himself as he waited to land the next blow.

Before the next blow came, the pet’s voice broke into a sob, “Red!”

The hit did not land. Sir let the shoe drop to the floor and instead touched the scorching hot flesh with his bare hand, not with the shoe. His pet gasped and scrambled to flee his touch at first until he realized that another hit… was not coming.

“S… I’m sorry, Sir,” his pet said between sobs, and with legitimate guilt, which Sir didn’t understand.

“Shhh,” Sir said, “You have no need to apologize, pet. You’re working so hard for your Sir.” He needed, first and foremost, to calm his pet before he took any further action. “Can you say that? Can you say that you’re working hard to please your Sir?”

“I… I’m working… h-hard… for you, Sir,” his pet said, and he rewarded his obedience by penetrating him.

Slow and steady. Gently. His pet needed a loving touch to bring him a sensation, unlike the pain he felt now. Sir pressed, touched and rubbed inside his pet’s passage until the sobs turned to gasps, and gasps turned to soft little mewls. He helped his pet along by pumping a languid hand over his hardening cock.

“Yes, that’s right, pet,” Sir said, pleased with how sobs of pain were now sweet little noises. “You held your legs apart as long as you could, and your Sir saw how you were trying to hold still.” His pet was trying to hold still even now, as Sir fingered his hole.

“How does this feel, pet?” he asked when his pet’s cock began leaking again. “Answer me.”

“I-it feels—mmm… good… g-good, Sir…”

“Do you want to stop now, pet?” Sir asked, but Sir’s pet was strangely quiet. Save for the soft moans to escape his lips, the pet didn’t answer. This, Sir couldn’t allow, even now. He stopped touching his pet who whimpered at the sudden lack of pleasure. “Answer me, pet.”

“I… don’t know…” his pet finally croaked out.

_ He doesn’t know. _ That was of little help. Sir was left to wonder about what he should do now. Should he put an end to their scene, or should he push his pet just a little further? While some liked to test the boundaries of a sub’s pain threshold, there were others who swore to never go beyond what was discussed. His pet hadn’t said the safeword, and he was now uncertain about stopping the spanking. Sir thought they might both benefit from a bit of pushing, but he didn’t want to risk harming his pet. No. If he thought about it well, Sir knew his pet would never say the safeword, even if he needed to. It was  _ Morgan’s _ pride keeping him from saying it.

“I’ll untie you, pet. We’re done here for today.”

His pet tensed quickly as if he’d done something wrong, but then seemed to surrender himself to whatever was to come. Nothing was to come, save for a well-deserved butt massage and an orgasm. Sir pulled himself back and went around the desk to free the pet of his bindings.

Sir didn’t urge the pet to move, but he helped him up when he found a bout of strength to stand. No way was Sir going to let him simply stand on those wobbly legs, though. He helped his pet to the bed in the corner and laid him down on his side. He only left his pet’s side to go fetch the body cream and returned almost immediately. Without the slightest idea how much he should use, he decided he wouldn't pay attention to how much of it he used, as long as his pet kept groaning out of relief.

Zach wasn’t sure when the switch had exactly happened, but Sir had gone and now he had to process everything that had happened. Morgan kept whimpering, but whenever Zach stopped touching his mate’s inflamed rear, the Omega would keen and demanded  _ Sir _ to keep going…

Zach didn’t say anything when Morgan called him ‘Sir’. He felt he should hate it, and maybe he did, but it brought his Omega the comfort he needed. That is until Morgan showed him what sort of  _ comfort _ he really needed. The hand gripping his wrist, keeping him from kneading anymore of the asscheeks he’d been carefully slaving over for a while now, was clammy and while Zach would’ve liked to pull away, he let himself be guided where his Omega needed him.

_ Inside. _

“P-please, Sir,” Morgan begged, his voice nearly inaudible when muffled by the pillow.  _ Sir _ never would’ve allowed for his pet to make demands, but he wasn’t Sir, not anymore, and he wanted to soothe his mate and please him and love him.

One finger went in easily, albeit Morgan’s inner walls squirmed around him. He worked his finger in and out in shallow thrusts. Now that he was already here, three knuckles deep in his husband’s ass, he wished he’d thought to bring the lube along with the cream. He had a better alternative. He slipped his finger out and rearranged them so Morgan was on his stomach with a pillow he could rub himself against while also raising his rear.

Zach was careful with how he spread Morgan, and the last thing he wanted was to give his mate a rash by rubbing his already sensitive flesh with his stubble. Some things were inevitable and Morgan obviously disliked the feel of his prickly whiskers. All discomfort was forgotten, however, when Zach brought his mouth to that hungry hole.

His tongue was meant with no resistance when he prodded into the Omega’s passage, fucking in and out and slobbering with abandon until he couldn’t hear any displeasure in Morgan’s cries anymore. His mate pushed himself back onto him and stained the pillow underneath with pre as trembling hips moved in tandem with his tongue. Morgan moaned loudly and without reservation to embolden him into forcing the breach with two fingers.

Zach read his mate’s body, fucking him hard when he lifted his ass to meet his thrusts, and slowing down when his body fled his touch. When he found the sweet spot that made his Omega sing pretty, he nailed it repeatedly until he was breathless and…

Morgan came.

He spilled himself against the pillow and lost his voice to the orgasm that wrecked him. His whole body tensed and his insides bore down on Zach’s fingers, keeping him where it felt good until his eyelids fluttered open at last and he could breathe again. Zach didn’t move him and the Omega didn’t ask to be moved, but Zach climbed down from the bed to fetch another water bottle. Zach helped his mate to drink, but then let the Omega settle until he was comfortable.

“Are you going to stay there and stare at me?” Morgan asked him, his voice a little hoarse.

“Unless you want me to leave you?”

His Omega gave him a long look. Zach knelt by his bedside and propped his chin onto the mattress like a sad dog waiting on its master to wake up. A weak hand touched his cheek, blunt nails scratching his stumble before moving to scratch his scalp at the back of his head. Morgan pulled him in for a slow kiss.

“I want you to stay,” the Omega said.

“Then I’ll stay here and wait,” Zach said.

That made Morgan laugh. “Like a little puppy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short story features an actual, real-life product that you can purchase! In this scenario, it's used to take care of the sub's bottom during aftercare, but the product itself has a much wider use-range than the BDSM scene.
> 
> If you want to help lessen scarring, stretch marks, bruising, and just generally take care of your skin, you can buy Toulon's cream here.


	11. Day 11: Size Difference (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: MM, size difference, food play, titty fucking, anal sex, blowjob, handjob, exhibitionism
> 
> TW: Non-con - the big brawny bear is forced into enjoying himself, blackmail

“I worry your father will find me impudent for my sudden absence, Your Royal Highness. For the Captain of the royal guard to leave in the midst of a—“

“I know all that, Remiel,” Aislinn said with a wave of his hand. He’d called upon this man to entertain him from the mundane niceties of his father’s grand parties, yet here he was complaining and, quite frankly, more of a bore than Aislinn would’ve liked him to be. A prince had no need for a lesson from a crude, human guard, acclimated only to fighting.

A door opened suddenly, and Aislinn pressed his back against the wall. Remiel did the same. A human cook was coming out with a huge pot, pushed by him and pulled by three boys—also humans. Whatever the pot contained, it was steaming hot and it made Aislinn’s mouth water.

They waited for them to disappear behind another set of swinging doors before Aislinn led the way towards the kitchen he knew would be unoccupied now. There were concoctions of all matters simmering on low fires, fruits and vegetables cast about haphazardly in wait to be made useful to a dish, but none of it seemed to interest Aislinn. The prince only had eyes for the fountain in the very center of the room. A caramel fondue. He was so fond of the stuff, he hadn’t been able to wait for dessert to be served.

“There… is no meat in here?” Remiel said.

The concept of elves being vegetarians seemed to strike the man as odd, but he was the odd one. Really. It was known that elves did not tolerate animal meat. Aislinn didn’t even try to hide the condescension in his voice when he said, “That’s because elves don’t eat meat.”

If Remiel had been bothered by Aislinn’s tone, he did not show it. “Some of the foods I’ve eaten here tasted the same as some foods I’ve eaten outside of the palace…”

“Good for you.” Aislinn grabbed the man’s arm impatiently and pulled him to the fountain. “Help me with this. Grab a pot or a cauldron and fill it up with this,” he said while peering into liquid caramel. Remiel moved about him, but Aislinn only had eyes for the salty-sweet fondue in front of him. He licked a deliberately thick stripe of saliva over his finger with the knowledge that the caramel would likely be too hot for him to simply dip a digit in without coating it first, and he stuck his finger into the hot concoction which he brought to his mouth. “Hafff! Hot! Hot!” His finger didn’t suffer the heat, but his mouth sure did. Even so, he did not regret it.

“Your Highness!” Remiel scolded him, yanking Aislinn’s arm back and pulling his finger out of his mouth with the same movement. “You’ll burn yourself! Your father will have my head if anything were to happen to you on my watch.” Remiel’s mouth opened, possibly to utter some other cautionary plea, but he promptly closed it when Aislinn frowned at him. He stepped back and held his head low. “My apologies, Your Royal Highness.”

Aislinn bit down on every word he spoke, emphasizing his warning, “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

Aislinn’s expression was still quite severe when he commanded the guard to collect as much of the caramel as he could before they made their escape. Just in time, too, as the cook was returning with his boys. “Come on, Remiel. Let’s go.” They didn’t go to the prince’s chambers, nor did they head for a quieter, more desolate part of the palace. They didn’t go somewhere private because Aislinn fed off of Remiel’s shame. The human had no choice but to go along with his impetuous whims. If he didn’t comply, Aislinn threatened to reveal their relationship to his father.

In reality, there wasn’t much of a relationship between them; Remiel stuck his nose where it shouldn’t have been, but Aislinn was quite sullen with his princehood. He was affianced, so news of him sleeping around would make for a very unfortunate scandal, but that wasn’t something Remiel would allow. He’d worked too hard to be appointed as the new Captain of the Royal Guard.

If all else failed, and their secret was somehow revealed, Aislinn could always play the victimized prince who’d been taken advantage of. No one would believe a mere human, and Remiel’s monstrous size would serve to further the prince’s claim. Elves were lithe creatures better suited as scholars and mana wielders than soldiers, but while they were never particularly short, Aislinn was among the shortest. Similarly, Remiel did not fit in with his peers, but unlike the prince, he was a gigantic man who stood well above the tallest commoner, and he was built like an ox. No one would believe him if he said that Aislinn had been the one to push him down.

“Here!” Aislinn called as they pushed out into the gardens. There were plenty of hedges for them to hide behind, and the paths split off in all sorts of directions like a maze, but the prince chose a dark nook a few paces away from the large archway leading into the palace’s ballroom. He pulled on Remiel’s wrist to get him to kneel with him. “Get down.”

The pot of warm caramel was set beside them just in time for Aislinn to pounce on the bigger man. He pushed him back until he was laid flat on the stone path with Remiel’s head propped up by the dense hedges at an awkward angle.

“W-wait! We might be seen!” Remiel stammered, but nothing could stop Aislinn from pushing the guard’s garments out of the way.

Aislinn lifted the man’s shirt first, bundling the few layers up under Remiel’s chin. The chainmail was heavier than he could handle single-handedly, so he managed it with both hands. What he revealed underneath made him salivate.

A dense forest of dark brown fur dominated hard, bulging muscles, and the pale marks, scars from past battles, deep gashes now healed, marred the guard’s deliciously dark flesh. All elves were pale in complexion, but some humans were baked by the sun, and some like Remiel had a beautiful skin colour… like caramel. And those nipples! Small, dark, soft. Nothing like a woman’s. Aislinn had carefully trained those very nipples to respond to his touch and their peeks hardened into little pebbles as soon as he ran his thumbs over them.

Remiel did not stop him from grabbing handfuls of the battle-hardened body, or even when he captured one nipple with his mouth. Even when he bit that stiff little teat, the guard did nothing. However, Aislinn was forced to pause after he’d reached for the pot of melted caramel when Remiel grabbed his arm.

Aislinn glared down at the guard, but this did not deter him.

“It’ll be hot, Your Royal Highness,” Remiel implored him, “Please don’t burn me.”

The prince scoffed. Scarred by wounds of the past, battle-hardened mind and body, and willing to give his life to protect his kingdom’s crown, and yet Remiel was afraid of a little burn? Aislinn stuck his hand, four fingers, into the concoction, and though it certainly was hot, it wasn’t so hot as to burn. He cupped a handful of the caramel out and dumped it onto the guard’s chest, right in the middle of his torso where the chest hair was thickest. Remiel gasped and flinched, expecting it to hurt, but it didn’t, and his sudden reservation wasn’t so related to pain as it now was about the mess Aislinn was creating.

“There!” the prince said, smiling hungrily as he worked the caramel into the thick curls of hair with his fingers. He spread it as far out as it would go, enjoying the way Remiel groaned when he applied another warm dollop of the stuff and began working it lower down his front. “Good enough to eat!” Aislinn claimed just as he brought his mouth back down to suck on a caramel-covered nipple.

Remiel whimpered and his whole body undulated in such a way that Aislin had almost been bucked back. _Not if I can help it,_ the prince thought and he promptly mounted the man, peeing off his own breeches in the process.

The guard avoided looking down for he’d see the prince, cock in hand, stroking himself to full hardness. Only to full hardness, because Aislinn had other plans. He groped the man’s chest, squeezing his protruding pecs hard and pulling them to form a valley he could fuck. “Yeah,” Aislinn grunted. The fit was perfect for his size, justly slicked, and the gentle warmth against the cool air made for a delightful contrast of sensation. He squeezed his thighs and moved his hips with abandon as he ground himself within that slippery cleft with a downwards motion.

Aislinn’s arms quickly started to cramp from forcibly squishing the guard’s muscular chest. So he straightened himself and said, “Hold your tits like this.” Certainly, a humiliating gesture and Remiel hesitated, but he didn’t refuse, and Aislinn was once again fucking those man-tits and making even more of a mess of the man. “Look at you, Remi. You’re such a filthy whore.”

Before the guard could say anything—if he even dared—Aislinn had two sticky fingers in the human’s mouth for him to clean. He savoured the sensation of the strong muscle licking his digits clean, and shuddered when he imagined Remiel sucking on his cock the same as when he sucked his finger. He fucked the middle of the guard’s chest with his cock, fucked the guard’s mouth with his fingers, and let his mind be swept by the swell of pleasure in his loins.

 _“Ugggh, I love your f-fffucking tits like this,”_ he moaned. His hips stuttered and his eyes rolled back. His hands clamped, one around Remiel’s arms to steady himself, and the other around the lower portion of his face, three fingers still in that wet, sucking heat driving him over the edge. He came like that with a shrill shout. _“Oooooohhhhh! G-gods! I’m cumming… cumming! Cum—mmm!!”_ He hammered his hips hard with each spurt of seed he splashed onto the guard’s chest. His orgasm roared through him and he shook with it until, finally, it subsided and he could open his eyes to take in the extent of the mess he’d made, and he was delighted by the off-white of semen mixing with the burnt copper of caramel.

“I really wish you’d be a bit more conscious of your voice, Your Royal Highness,” Remiel said after Aislinn disentangled himself from the man.

Aislinn swallowed before retorting with, “You don’t get to say that to me, Remiel.” The man in question jumped when he groped the visible tent pitched in the guard’s trousers. Doing this, being taken advantage of and being made a wreck by an elf a fraction his size must have aroused him. “Not when you’re this hard from getting your tits fucked.”

Aislinn began pulling on the guard’s bottoms. At first, he appeared too stunned to react, but when the waistband of his breeches caught around the head of his cock, he quickly swiped his pants from the prince’s hands and pulled them up again. “No!”

“Take them off!” Aislinn said. He tugged on the fabric, but he had no hope of besting the human’s brute strength. “I said: take them off, Remiel!”

“No! Have you not had enough?”

The prince threw his hands up in a gesture of frustration. “You don’t get to tell a prince when he’s had enough! Do as I tell you, Remiel!” he said angrily, but the guard insisted on keeping his pants up to his waist. Aislinn gave a long, high-pitched groan of dissatisfaction in the face of Remiel’s refusal to comply. Then his eyes darkened and Remiel’s seemed to realize the grave mistake he’d just made. “If you want to keep your position, Captain, I suggest you take your fucking pants off,” he said, his words laced with venom.

Remiel didn’t fight any more than that. He didn’t reveal his groin to the prince, but he also didn’t stop Aislinn from undressing him. A thick cock, almost as girthy as Aislinn’s arm, sprung forth into the cold air, the head slapping against the guard’s lower belly.

A grin pulled at the corners of Aislinn’s lips. “Yes, that’s better,” he said softly. His fingers glided along the pulsing length, grabbing it to feel the weight, to flick it so that the head smacked against Remiel’s belly. It gave a lewd, positively inappropriate noise and it made the guard flinch and gasp. “No wonder women flock to you by the handful,” he scoffed, “You’re packing! Could you imagine if they learned the truth about you, though?”

“W-what do you mean, Your Royal Highness?”

Aislinn didn’t answer him; Remiel would have his answer to that question soon enough.

The prince dipped his fingers back into the cooling caramel. He moved slowly, deliberately allowing for the liquid to dribble about Remiel’s belly. A little into the man’s navel, which Aislinn immediately lapped up. A few drips trailing down towards the massive cock twitching as his mouth slowly drew closer.

“Must you… really keep using the caramel in such a vulgar manner?” Remiel asked sheepishly.

Aislinn laughed. “Of course. I get to do whatever I want with your body, Remiel. You understand that?” He poured a fresh dollop of warm caramel over the human’s cock before squeezing the thick head of this one’s erection into his tight fist. Remiel’s body tensed and the man grunted when he worked the head alone by twisting his wrist. He rubbed his thumb down over the slit, the pressure to force the guard’s pisshole open just enough to make him whine and buck in Aislinn’s hand. Remiel keened as though he hated it, but his body didn’t seem to agree. His cock was hard as a rock when Aislinn handled him, and when he brought his hand down the length of the shaft, it pulsated in his palm.

Now that it was covered in the salty-sweet liquid Aislinn loved more than anything else…

He couldn’t resist tasting it again. Directly off of the guard’s hard, throbbing cock. The sweetness and saltiness of salted caramel mingled with the sweat and musk of a man’s laborious day. He was frantic with the flavour, entranced by its raw intricacies and it made him feel wild, free of the daily properness of being a prince, of having to pretend to smile and care.

 _“Uuuuuuhhhhuuuuuhhhhhh… Mmmm!”_ Remiel slapped his hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet while Aislinn devoted himself to lapping his cock clean. Up and down, sucking at his hard flesh.

Licking wasn’t enough for Aislinn, though. He had to wrap his lips around the head, to feel it stretch his jaw.

 _“O-oh! Gods! Fuck!”_ Remiel gasped, and a powerful thrust of his hips sank him into Aislinn’s waiting mouth. Suddenly, he couldn’t seem to contain the noises which escaped him. _“Uuuuuhhh! Aaah… A-ah, f-fuck… you’re… you’re gonna—oh, gods! Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhh…”_

It was too big for his little mouth; he couldn’t open wide enough to take the whole thing to the back of his throat. So he stroked the rest of the cock’s length he could manage to swallow and kept bobbing his head. His tongue cramped, as did his cheeks, and his breathlessness made him light-headed, all manner of discomfort which was overlooked completely at the first taste of sperm. Potent, warm, salty cum shooting against the back of his throat, choking him, making him sputter what he couldn’t swallow.

 _“S-shit—nnnnghh! I’m cumming! Uuuuuuuhhhhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yes! A-aah!”_ Remiel cried out as his body finally seized with his climax. The sensation rolled through him in time with the involuntary rocking of his hips until he slumped, exhausted and panting.

Aislinn sucked hard, pulling soft sounds out of the guard, until his mouth came off with a lewd _pop!_ He kept pumping his hand along the whole length of the spit-shined cock and sucked on his own swollen lips. He squeezed one last eruption, this one oozing lazily from the tip and down the head where it collected over his fingers. He handled this last glob of spend carefully, without wasting a single drop of it, and he used it to ease a finger into the guard’s ass.

Remiel gasped, twisted his hips to flee the intrusion, but Aislinn forced the breach of the tight muscle and pushed his middle finger to the very last knuckle. The walls clamped down on him, tried to push him out, but he waited until Remiel’s body accepted him before feeling for the slight swell of bundled nerves.

He found it when he curled his finger and Remiel let out a shout, “Ah! No!” The man squirmed, tossed his head from side to side, and whined. “I-it’s too soon!”

“No. It’s not. Stop whining,” Aislinn said.

The prince tapped his finger rhythmically on Remiel’s prostate to make him gasp and cry. When he felt the man moved too much to his liking, he rubbed hard circles inside his ass instead of repetitively striking at his prostate, which effectively shocked Remiel’s senses, rendering him mute and both too weak and too tense to fight. Aislinn pushed a second finger in then, the stretch making Remiel suck in a hard breath through clenched teeth, and the tightness which sucked his digits in sent delightful shivers cascading down his spine.

Aislinn reached for his cock, pleased to find himself hardening fast, and he jerked himself with languid strokes whilst also fingering Remiel’s passage. When his fingers were met with little resistance, he pulled them out and lined the head of his cock with the guard’s puckered hole. Before he pushed past the breach, however, his eyes fell to the pot of caramel and he smiled wickedly.

It was no longer hot, but it was still warm and wet enough for Aislinn to slick his erection with it. He closed his eyes and breathed a shudder of pleasure as he pumped his hand over his length. Warm. Wet. And when the head of his cock finally kissed Remiel’s entrance… tight.

He moved in slowly, little by little, until he could go no further, and then he moved out just as tantalizingly slow until only the head remained. He moved like this for a few seconds, his eyes locked on the guard's face as it kept twisting between discomfort to relief and he pushed in and pulled out. “You’re so fucking tight.” He lifted one of Remiel’s knees, which required a fair bit of effort, and he pushed the leg down towards the body. The other followed somewhat awkwardly, but once Remiel was bent, it was easier to push it down, too. “Hold your legs like this,” he said and the man reluctantly did as he was told. His ass was vulnerable now, opened for Aislinn to slide himself until he bottomed out all the way.

 _“Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhh… yes!”_ He moaned at the tight heat enveloping him completely. He caught his breath, propped himself up on the back of Remiel’s thighs, and wiggled his hips to make the bigger man beneath him gasp. _“Mmmm! Gods, you’re so… fffffuck… Your ass won’t let me move!”_ he said despite how energetically he rolled his hips, grinding back and forth, side to side, and in circular motions without pulling himself back. Remiel’s inside quivered around his cock.

“Hurry, Your Royal Highness,” Remiel whispered, but out of a different need. He held onto the back of his knees as he was asked to, but his cock had gone soft. He refused to meet Aislinn’s eyes, but the prince could see the intense flush of his cheeks. It sullied the mood.

Nevertheless, Aislinn was hard and he wasn’t leaving here until he got to cum in this pitiful guard’s ass.

He pulled his hips up and pushed back in. Remiel’s insides clung to his cock when he pulled out and fluttered around him when he pushed him, and the sensations built fast. Before he could notice the guard’s breath hitching or his cock springing with life again, his own breathing had become ragged, and he was pounding his cock deep and hard at a brutal rhythm.

Elves weren't known for sweating much, but perspiration clung to his forehead now, the lick of the breeze cooling the fire under his skin because of that. It even trickled down his temple and cheek, towards his chin, where it would then drip down on a matted mess of chest hair and hardening caramel. The burn he felt in his abs with each thrust of his hips was exquisite, and when his thighs began hurting just the same, he knew he’d be reaching his limit soon. _Too soon._ So he slowed down, focused instead on finding an angle to torture Remiel.

The man’s cock was stiff again, and the tip was leaking a steady stream of clear fluid. He was biting his lip to keep himself from enjoying this, but Aislinn wasn’t blind to his feeble rebellion. Remiel was feeling good and he would enforce this shame upon him. Aislinn took the guard’s cock in his hand and began stroking it with long, fast movements of his hand.

Remiel’s body jerked and his insides tightened. _“N-no—oooooooohhhh! Please d-don’t… nnnnngh! Don’t touch m… m-me!”_ the man cried out.

 _“Shut up. Uuuuhh… You like this, just admit it,”_ Aislinn growled back, hips snapping sharply.

Remiel’s cock was throbbing in his hand, swollen balls pulling up, and his ass didn’t seem to know whether to suck him in or trembled around his cock. He’d be cumming soon. Again. Whether he liked it or not. Aislinn would see to it that the guard came hard.

Aislinn bucked his hips, deep, rolling thrusts as he hammered his cock with abandon, and his hand became a blur as he jerked Remiel’s cock, sending strings of pre-cum flying wildly about the man’s chest and face. He wrenched naughty bedroom noises from the bigger man, and when this one tried to hold himself back, he moved with savagery. He wanted to hear Remiel cry out in pleasure. He wanted to burn this sensation into the guard’s body. Remiel owned nothing, not even what pleasure he received and felt, and Aislinn made it very clear.

The prince came first. His hips stuttered, his head fell back and he shouted his release. He fucked his spent against the guard’s prostate until he came as well. And then he collapsed, exhausted, breathless, and already sore. Their bodies shivered and trembled, and Aislinn lay atop the bigger man until his softening cock slipped from Remiel’s passage.

When he could finally stand to dress himself again, it was on shaky legs that felt as though they wouldn’t support him up the stairs to his chambers. He considered forcing Remiel to carry him, but one look at him and what he saw was a mess, not a man.

 _I’m gonna have to make do…_ he dreaded the thought.

“Clean yourself up before you’re found,” Aislinn said. He left the guard, dazed and wrecked, where he lay, before climbing to his chambers to clean himself up and sleep.


	12. My Undoing (day 12: mirrors)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisah's been told time and again not to go beyond _that_ door. He knows he should heed Gabriel's warnings, but his curiosity gets the best of him regardless. Not satisfied with peeking anymore, he braves the unknown in search of a mirror he's once seen whilst peeking. Finding this mirror might just bring about Elisah's undoing, however.
> 
> (As of the date of publishing, this fanfic is 100% spoiler-free.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: MM, demon/angel, mirror sex, invisible/ghost sex
> 
> TW: Non/dub-con

Elisah wasn’t the type to go against the rules, and yet…

_ If Gabriel finds me here, _ the thought was of no comfort. He simply wasn’t supposed to go beyond this door, but something drew him here. It was the mirror, he supposed, which he’d only seen on the rare occasion he managed to peek without getting caught. Elisah hadn’t ever seen anything so big, and when he saw it move on its own, with nothing to support it, he was wholly entranced by it.

It was special, that much he knew, and he assumed it was for that precise reason that most of the angels, including himself, weren’t allowed here. Why was it special, though? He was here to find out exactly what this mirror had to offer that other mirrors didn’t. How was he supposed to do that when he couldn’t find it, though? Last he’d seen the mirror, it was in the line of sight of the crook in the door, but now… it was not here, it seemed.

He had to fly up a little ways above the trees to find it hidden in some lush green corner, surrounded by low-lying trees, propped up on a large rock and covered in flowering vines and moss.  _ Strange, _ he thought as the last time he’d seen it hadn’t been so long ago, but now it appeared as though it had been left abandoned for years. His wings took him a short ways from it, where he stood among the trees, cautiously out of reach. Already, he saw that the glass was clouded, old and scratched and dusty with the wears of time. Even so, it seemed to  _ pulse _ with life.

Elisah took a single step forward, but a branch cracked under his foot and a humming broke the quietude of his desolation. It made the furs at his elbows vibrate, but he didn’t feel nervous even if he told himself he should. He wasn’t anxious because of the voice speaking to him now.

It was a tiny voice, one Elisah couldn’t even understand. He heard the fast mumblings, little distinct noises of someone talking, and he knew instinctively that it addressed him, but he couldn’t make out what it was saying. Maybe it wanted him to come out of the treeline he was hiding in? He decided that must be it, and surely it had to be since it grew louder the closer he came to the mirror.

It was massive, taller than he could even reach with his arm outstretched and wider than five of him, he assumed. He could see the ornate frame around it amongst the thick greenery clinging to it. It was a thick border of intricately carved wooden painted white. There were scriptures all around it, but the vines and moss made it impossible for him to read them. And yet, he didn’t find it any more beautiful than that. There was something wrong with it.

His reflection did not appear in the glass as it should have; the surface was so stained with grime and muck, that all Elisah could see was the shapely mass of himself without any distinguishing characteristics he knew he possessed, like a shadow. Nevertheless, he had to be sure it was  _ his _ shadow being reflected into the glass. So he raised his left hand and was immediately relieved to see his reflection moving as he did. He tried stretching his wings on each side of him. The shadow did just that. He smiled, but there were no features he could see which might indicate that the shadow did or did not copy him that time. Then, he glanced at the shadow’s perked ears, his own sitting very high atop his head. The shadow’s left ear twitched and Elisah frowned curiously. His ear hadn’t twitched.

Or had it?

He’d felt its pulse in his heart, like the reassuring thrumming of a purr in his chest, but now he noticed the glass pulsating as though it were breathing. Rising and falling. Inhaling and exhaling. A rhythmic movement, a slow cadence, which he involuntarily understood as his own.

_ I feel calm… I feel good… Is that odd? _ he wondered.

He raised his hand to touch the surface, eager to wipe away its filth and see what he looked like. Surprised? Excited? Captivated? Would he be wide-eyed with interest or trepidation? Heat radiated off of the mirror.  _ Is it… alive!? _

It moved just as the tip of Elisah’s fingers touched the glass, right between where his eyes should be reflected. He gasped to see it zipping to the side, ripping away from the vines clinging to it, moving on its own and out of his reach and before he could react. It moved quickly and with such ease despite the intricate maze of trees haphazardly sprouting from the ground! Elisah could never hope to move so nimbly through such a tight grouping of trees. Finally, it stopped among the thick brush. He hesitated, his eyes darting about for anyone who might have seen, or Gabriel, before he went to it.

The mirror waited as he painstakingly made his way over roots, between trees, and below branches, and when he reached it, it was unchanged. The glass was terribly dirty. The same dark mass of himself appeared. The surface still rose and fell. It was the same mirror which had moved on its own, but now it was nestled between a cage of lanky trees so tightly wound together that Elisah couldn’t push past any of them. He reached his hand between the trees to touch it and, again, the mirror bolted from its prison.

Elisah chased it out into a wide open clearing. First on foot, but then by air. He tried to catch it, he felt it wanted him to, but it always evaded his touch. No matter how fast he went, no matter how close he got, it always stayed one step ahead of him. He lost himself to the chase and never saw how it was leading him out into the open, out in clear view of the only door in or out of this place.

The mirror finally stopped and Elisah halted his chase a few feet away. It had done this to him many times, where it came to a sudden stop to wait for him to pounce at it before it bound just out of reach, so he was suspicious of it now. He took a hesitant step forward. It didn’t move. He took another. And then another. He thought himself so clever when he launched himself forward with a powerful burst of his wings, and he was so elated to feel the warmth of the surface along the entirety of his hand. He was so proud to have finally caught the fleeing mirror that he boldly said, “I caught you!” with no reservation as to who might have heard him.

He stepped back, panting gleefully, but as the excitement of the chase gradually wore off, he became sensible once more, and he recognized the scenery. He spun on his heels, his heart immediately pinched with worry, but the door was still closed and there were no traces of Gabriel.

He should leave. He knew he should leave, lest he be caught and scolded again. Oh, how he hated being shameful, but he couldn’t help himself! He was curious…

After taking a deep breath to calm himself and feeling his chest for the erratic heartbeat thumping against his ribs, he turned back to the mirror. 

“Ah!”

What he saw unnerved him so that he had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming and look behind himself again.  _ Nothing. _ There was nothing behind him, but when he turned back to the mirror, a new mass overshadowed his. Bigger, taller, with horns and clawed winds. He looked back toward the door, then again at the mirror, and back to the door.

_ Perhaps… _ he thought and reluctantly forced his eyes back to the mirror.  _ It’s all just a trick… _

A trick. Yes. That had to be it. There was no one behind him, no one here aside from himself, and there was simply no way a devil could somehow find their way here. A devil. That was what he saw, wasn’t it? Elisah had never seen a real devil before, although the silhouette shown looming over his reflection was unmistakably different than that of any angel he’d ever seen. So it had to be some kind of trick.

_ Why would Gabriel keep such a thing? _

His heart was in his throat, making it impossible for him to swallow, when he touched the glass with a trembling hand. He tried to wipe some of the gunk away, but the dirt was so crusted that the image only blurred further. After a moment of consideration, long enough for his raspy breathing to settle a little, he disrobed himself of his loincloth in the hopes that it would be better suited to polish the mirror’s surface of its grime. He hesitated. He wasn’t particularly bothered by his own nudity, but what if someone came in and witnessed his bare and naked form?

He hurriedly scrubbed the surface with quick back and forths of his arm and rubbed in circular motions when his arm grew weary of the repetitive movement. Slowly, his face appeared, clear as day and just as he’d seen it in other mirrors. His face! Without any frightening or shocking modifications. His face… Elisah saw his face now, but there was still a shadow standing behind him. 

“Hmm.”

He wished he wasn’t so curious. Perhaps he would’ve been able to walk away, but he wasn’t. He reached up, cloth in hand, and he worked the glass where he thought he might finally see the strange creature in the mirror. Two eyes, completely black scleras with bright orange irises, and a nose appeared— _ only a devil could have such a frightening face! _ —and then a mouth, so similar to his own, was revealed. He touched its lips, only out of fascination, but to his affront, the creature licked him!

He stumbled back, shocked and offended, but his back collided with something solid yet living like a body, and he startled. Yet he was only to find nothing behind him… but it had felt so real! His finger was dry, but he’d seen the devil’s red tongue and felt its wet heat! And then he’d felt the devil’s body against his!

Now, Elisah looked at the devil who grinned knowingly. Its dark eyes darted down and he followed their look lower, along their marred reflections. The devil’s body was moving; he couldn’t see how, or where exactly, but he could tell it was moving. Without further thought, he lurched forward, with his loincloth again, and he slaved over the surface to reveal the length of both of their bodies. An impulsive and foolhardy deed which he immediately regretted.

The creature standing behind him was a monstrous devil with hairless red skin covered in black markings, black wings surrounding them, long, curved horns and a pointed tail to match. And if Elisah stepped aside just a little, his eyes fell upon its massive cock.

He tried to force himself to look away, but he couldn’t. It was big. Even limp, it was still so big! He closed his eyes and tilted his head down, digging his claws into the palm of his hands, and he replayed Gabriel’s words in his head like a mantra. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t let himself be taken by shame. He had to resist the stirring in his loins. He was naked, he realized, and he feared he might not be able to conceal himself properly in such a dreadful state.

However, when his eyes snapped open, it wasn’t to wrap himself in his soiled loincloth, but rather to catch himself; the devil pushed him forward with a powerful thrust. Elisah pushed himself back right into the creature’s waiting arms.

“Let go!” he said, suddenly immobilized yet unable to feel for anything to push away from.

The devil appeared to laugh, but he was deaf to the voice. He writhed in an attempt to look back, but he found it impossible to look away from their reflection. The devil appeared pleased with his panicked expression. It seemed to taunt him, lips moving without sound, as if saying:

“Go on. Scream.”

Elisah had to choose between this horrid scene or Gabriel’s exasperation. The choice was made for him, he supposed, when the devil’s hand wrapped around his neck, and he felt it hard to breathe. Hard, certainly, but the devil wasn’t choking him. He screwed his eyes shut nonetheless, and whimpered fearfully when the fingers moved from his neck to tickle his clavicle, and then further down to tease his nipples. The hard pinch made him gasp with pain and he made a feeble attempt to break loose, but the touch was then soothing, rubbing soft circles around the now-stiff peak which sent a strange jolt of sensation down his spine. Something coiled inside of him, something exciting and frightening he knew he wasn’t allowed to explore.

“No…” he cried when the devil’s fingers touched his navel. Then claws scratched lightly into his fur, down towards where he itched, and he had to repress his shameful need to masturbate.

He could feel the hot breath on his shoulders, the press of lips into the crook of his neck, and the wetness of a tongue lapping at his skin. He felt when the devil bit him, when he sucked, and when he soothed the hurt. It was real in feeling, enough to sway his sense of reality a little, but he still fought against the creature’s tangible authenticity. The devil existed only within the mirror.

_ “Aah!” _ he squeaked, surprised by the sudden clasp around his penis. His eyes shot downwards to his crotch where he saw his organ erect, not soft as it should be, and jutting straight out from the dense bush of soft fur.

He was stroking himself, languid ups and downs from base to tip, but it didn’t feel like  _ his _ hand. The hand was bigger, warmer, and it squeezed his shaft harder than he might squeeze himself. When he looked up, to his wrecked reflection, there was terror in his eyes as the devil handled the length between his legs.  _ It was the devil touching him! _ Yes! He could see it now! And feel it, too. 

_ “Ah! Aaahh! N-no—nnngh!” _ Elisah moaned, eyes fluttering shut despite his efforts to keep them open. When the pale flush of his tip disappeared into the clenched black fist, his whole body vibrated backwards, and then forward when it reappeared.

Something was coming, something dangerous, and he was powerless to stop it. It swirled in the pit of his stomach, building until he could no longer contain his voice, until his body was taut with the sensation, and then it faded fast, replaced instead by a painful tightness constricting him. The devil’s hand was stopped and wrapped with a vice-like grip around the base of his penis. It hurt a little.

_ “Mmmm…? Hngh!” _ he whined discontentedly at the sudden loss and his body undulated, chasing after the remnant sensations.

_ Please, God! Let it be over! _ But the devil wasn’t done with him, and when he looked into those black eyes again, he saw no consolation for himself. There would be no solace, he feared.

He was unwillingly pliant, his body responding accordingly, when he was forced into leaning forward and made to bend at the waist. He still couldn’t seem to shake himself free of the creature’s grasp, but he could prop his hands against the mirror whilst he was taught how to arch his back.

The hand holding his penis stayed there, tight and unyielding, but another equally strong grip came to the nape of his neck, steadying him against the body now rocking behind him. Hot flesh undulated against his rear, nudging him forward, lifting him onto his toes, before the hand at his front brought his back.

_ I… I-I feel it! _ he thought, his body burning with shame, and he hung his head, pressing his forehead to the warm, pulsating glass, and racked his teeth into his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Faster. Harder.

The devil ground his stiffening length against him until it was rock hard and pressed so flush against his rear that it forced his cheeks apart. It was rubbing along his valley now. A long, thick, hard rod caressing his most intimate place, a place he hadn’t even seen himself. The length glided down, and Elisah felt the tip drifting down his whole center before coming back up. As the devil’s tip climbed the length of his cleft again, it hitched against his hole and pushed hard.

“Aaah!!” a shout escaped him and his body fled the intrusion. He was brought back and the hard length continued rubbing between his cheeks, almost as if to placate and soothe the sudden pang he’d felt.

“Please, God,” he prayed in earnest, “Please have mercy. Please… I beg you, don’t let me be tainted, God.” Seeming to understand his words, the creature bucked hard against him, cutting his breath and his prayers short as he was again made stand on the tip of his toes and rock forward. When he was brought back, this time, the devil’s mouth clamped savagely over his shoulder.

“Gah!!” Elisah yelped, his body rigid with this pain.

He didn’t notice how the devil was suddenly aligned with his hole until one powerful thrust split through him like a thunder blast. The pain siphoned the air right out of his lungs, and when he opened his mouth to scream, his voice was stolen from him. He felt as though he’d been torn from his anus to his balls, and the urgent way his body scrambled to get away from the intrusion did nothing to ease his suffering. In fact, it made the pain flare up, and the intense sting became a raging fire, but he couldn’t help it. Every ounce of his body wanted to get away. Away from the devil! Away from the mirror!

_ I never should have come here! I shouldn’t have disobeyed Gabriel! Oh God! Oh, God, what’ll become of me now? _

The pain was so terrific that it brought tears to his eyes, but it didn’t intensify. The hand clinging to the base of his penis began moving again, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth by the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“No… please, anything but that…” He couldn’t focus on it at first, but the sensations gradually came back to him, just like his erection, coiling tight behind his pelvis, heating him up until every pull made his body jerk, and flinch when he was reminded of the stiff length inside his body. Even that, however, subsided with time, and it moved to fill him little by little until he felt the devil’s hips pressing up against his rear.

“Nnnngh… T-too much…” he groaned. He felt he’d never get used to something so large being pushed so deep inside of him. The stretch stung and when he was made aware of every clench and quiver inside of him. Just like before, though, the devil showed him how to forget about his discomfort, how to ignore it and focus on the hand still devoted to his length.

He didn’t want to think the devil more merciful than God, but then it waited on him before the thick organ inside began to move. Lewd noises fell from his lips, lusting noises, despite the slight discomfort he still felt. The pace was steady, though, and Elisah found it easy to move along with the body coming in and out of his passage. This was… sodomy. He wasn’t ignorant. But sodomy was a sin. He had to stop. He couldn’t allow himself to—

_ “N-no—mmmm! We… can’t… I can’t… Aaaah!” _ Elisah cried out, his voice much too sweet to his liking. The pain was allayed completely. It was made strange and overwhelming instead, biting into his nerves and leading him on a chase for something he didn’t know how to obtain. Little noises, gasps and moans, rolled his tongue.

_ “Ah… Aaah… Uuuuh!” _ He tried to quiet them, but the sudden change in the devil’s movements made it impossible. A gasp caught in his lung when the devil’s length pulled out of him until only the head remained, and then snapped back in, the whole thing sheathed like a knife.

_ “Ahn!” _ Again.  _ “Aaah!” _ And again.  _ “Ah! Ahn! Ah! A-ah—hngh! Khh! Aaahn!” _ It kept moving in and out of his passage, piercing into him over and over again without any reservation. Hard. Fast. His body being used. And it made him hard. He saw it, his penis dangling stiff, moving indecently with the crashing of their bodies, and just like the noises slipped uninhibited from his mouth, a clear fluid leaked from the tip, the continuous streams flying wildly between his rocking body and the floor.

The devil was no longer holding his penis or the back of his neck, the clawed fingers now digging into his hips, slashing his flesh with an exquisite torment. Elisah hissed. He could only spare his right hand, as he had to brace himself against the mirror with the left, to search for a wrist or an arm to pull away. Nothing. There was nothing behind him. Nothing he could feel with his hands, but he felt it in his body! So he dug his own short claws into the meat of his thighs, grounding him to reality until every sensation melded into one.

His back was forced into a painful bow and he no longer noticed the claws forcing him up and down the thick rod. He felt he was moving on his own and forgetting himself to his own fright and excitement.

_ “Aaaaahhhh! Uuuuuuhhhhhhuuuuuhh… Uhn! Aaah! Mmmm!” _ Elisah moaned, bit his lip hard, and then whimpered. The feelings were mounting in him, building to the point of eruption and he desperately wanted to stop, but his body would listen. He rocked against that which pounded, beat, rutted like an animal against his rear. He writhed and cried out deliriously and shuddered with every electric shock biting into his spine.

_ “Nnnnnghhhh! N-noooo… S… s-something’s—uuuuuhh—coming! Please, G-God!” _

A few more thrusts, he knew. He screwed his eyes shut, not ready for this to end, not ready for his life to end. The next cry came as a sob; his own body was betraying him! Nevertheless, he pushed back for what he swore would have been the very last thing he’d ever do when his wrist was yanked, his fingers—he’d forced the breach of his hole with his own fingers, not the demon’s—forcibly sliding out of his hold, and he was thrown to the ground.

He heard shouting:

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing!?”

“Gabriel!?” he sputtered and scrambled onto his knees and hands. He could think of nothing aside from getting away. Getting far, far away. As far as he could! But a tight hand was once again on him, wrapped around his upper bicep and shaking him angrily.

Gabriel’s questions came too fast for him to answer them, and his silence only seemed to aggravate the angel further.

“I’ve told you to stay away from this place!” he said.

“I-I’m sorry,” was all Elisah could manage.

Gabriel’s fury was not qualmed in the slightest, however, and he went on. He went on for a long time until Elisah’s eyes returned back to the mirror. He panicked at the sight of the creature still standing there, still watching, still obscenely naked. Would the devil try to take him now? Would it try to take Gabriel as well?

“No!” he barked, not to Gabriel, but in his face, bringing about the other angel a look of confusion.

“No!” Elisah repeated over and over. He wanted to flee, to break away from Gabriel, but he always couldn’t bring himself to let go of him. “Get away! We have to get away!”

Gabriel turned back to the source of his troubles: the mirror. His expression was cool, however. Collected as always. There wasn’t even a hint of anger left in his eyes. He simply stared at the mirror blankly. The devil grinned at them, but Gabriel’s face didn’t change. It was then that Elisah understood that only  _ he _ could see the devil in the glass. What was this!?

“What did you see?” Gabriel asked, his voice sharp and even. Seeing his eyes narrow like that made Elisah anxious.

He opened his mouth to say it, to say everything, but nothing came out.

“What did you see, Elisah!?”

What was he supposed to say? What should he call it? A nightmare? Something horrible? A hideous creature? The devil?

_ My… undoing. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to read Hamlet Machine's **Lucifer's Garden** , you may do so by pledging to the third tier of her Patreon. Otherwise, you can visit her website or follow her on Twitter.
> 
> If not for her amazing presence with her fans, then definitely for her wonderful comics.


	13. Day 13: Breath Control (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: MM, aphrodisiac, sexual asphyxiation, rimming
> 
> TW: Monster-fucker/bestiality (do hellhounds count?), non/dub-con, slime

“Hey! Get off, you dumb beast!” Rowan hadn’t laughed in a long time, and he thought he’d never laugh again, yet here he was. Pinned into the mattress of his bed with a hideous and malodorous beast climbing over him. He laughed because it tickled him with its big nose, pressing it to his neck, grunting puffs of hot, reeking air into his ears. It did that when he was upset.

“Okay, okay!” he said decidedly, stifling a chuckle so he could put his weight into pushing the beast’s head away. “Get off now.”

It obeyed quietly.

Rowan wished he had a name for the beast. He knew Aamon and the beast as one of the same, the first being the original host and the second a primal hellhound of sorts, but he couldn’t convince himself that they were the same being. There was simply no way. Aamon was cruel, cynical, and ill-humoured, whereas Rowan had trained the beast to be gentle and well-behaved! Two souls, one body. And so it felt wrong to call it by Aamon’s name. He would think of a name to bestow upon it for the next time they meant. Until then, he had to survive a surprise attack.

The beast was back up on his lap, pushing him down with its big paws. Rowan choked on a breathless bout of giggles as the beast assaulted him with wet licks and nips. Once upon a time, he’d retched his breakfast at the smell of the beast. It didn’t bother him so much anymore—as long as the beast didn’t lick inside his mouth—

“Come on, already—aark!!” It licked inside his mouth. Always! Without fail! “Urgggh! Guh! Disgusting! Get off!” He lurched forward to spit out the black sludge, but it wouldn’t come out. He knew that, but his body reacted before he could stop himself.

Now, the beast lapped at his face, coating him in this rich, thick slime he was all too familiarly acquainted with. He ended up swallowing some of it, and as he felt it slide down the length of his esophagus, he dreaded what was sure to come next. It was inevitable when he swallowed the beast’s saliva. It… did things to him. He felt it happening already, or perhaps it was merely his body reacting with anticipation to the effects, but it was seeping into his veins now and his pants were growing tight.

_ Too tight, _ he thought. He needed to strip, he knew, but the beast licked his face still and his mind numbed, his thought slowing. He wasn’t groggy, or tired. He simply felt good. Really good. And tight. But good. His body was hot and taut, his insides quivering and his nerves vibrating. He gripped at the beast’s ears with weak hands, unable to push it away which was okay.

Yes.

It was okay.

The beast could keep licking if it liked. Rowan just needed it to lick… lower. He tried to force its head down the length of his body, but it insisted for a moment.  _ Don’t move… lower… Just a little… more… No, stop… Yeah, there. _ A rasp left him when the beast nuzzled his tented pants.

Even through the fabric of his cotton pants, he felt the pressure and heat of the beast’s tongue crashing against his stiffening erection. Its spit soaked through his clothes, and soon, his nethers were drenched in the black stuff covering the lower half of his face. It was hot, and it made his cock pulse with blood. He rocked his hips against its muzzle, keening noises escaping him as he both loathed and loved the shameful sensation.

The beast’s saliva made him horny—so unbelievably horny that he’d settle for the hellhound to sate his needs—but it didn’t make away with his inhibitions. Nonetheless, he scrambled to push his pants down when the beast began lapping back up towards his face. He knew that if he meant to keep it where he needed it, he had to offer it something tasty to lick.

Pre-cum.

He was already leaking by the time his cock slapped the flat of his pelvis, and quite a fair bit at that. As expected, the beast’s interests moved to the newly exposed flesh and licked one long, hot, wet stripe of black ooze along the big vein on the underside of his cock.  _ “Aaaaahhh! God, yes!” _

The beast licked him, over and over again, making his cock bounce obscenely. Sometimes, the flat of its tongue wrapped around his glans, and it sent a surge of sensation through him. When he came, it was with a delirious shout that he spilled his seed into the beast’s maw. It growled and it became vigorous in its touches. The pressure of its tongue became almost overwhelming, crushing his pathetic dick, making him squeal and writhe in pain-pleasure as it kept him in that zone where he was too sensitive.

“Get off!” he said in a high-pitched cry, not at all like his earlier laughing fit, but the beast didn’t listen to him. He mustered all the strength he could in his feeble hands and tried to liberate himself of his torment. “S-stop—nnnnggh!! Khhh! Fuck! Get off!” The beast mounted him, forcing him back down by laying a heavy paw on his chest.

It kept licking his oversensitive cock as he cried, and still licked some more. When he tried to fight it off again, it snarled and snapped at him as though he were trying to take a bone from between its paws.  _ It’s my boner, though! _

Eventually, the beast became satisfied with his spend and he was finally relinquished to shiver and tremble from the afterglow. His respite was too short, however, because all it took for the beast to be upon him again was for him to lift a knee and groan. The movement displayed more of him than he’d liked and the beast, despite its lack of eyes to see with, did not miss its chance to shove its hot, wet nuzzle up against his rim, making him shout of surprise and offence. He kicked with his legs to chase it off, but his pants clung awkwardly to his skin and he was unable to buck it off before its tongue licked him from the dimples of his back, up to the base of his cock.

“Ah! No!” he shouted, somehow finding the strength to sit up and yank at the beast’s ears. It barked a warning growl at him and its serpentine rear end lashed him across the face. Stunned by the blow, Rowan failed to clench as the beast forced its tongue deep inside his body. His whole body snapped, head kicking against the wall, further dazing him, as his back arched painfully. He opened his mouth, perhaps to beg or cry or scream, but he instead choked on the beast’s tail.

The slimy tendril burrowed its way down Rowan’s throat, just as the beast’s tail fed into his ass. Both, at the same time, pulsated inside of him and filled him with more black ooze than he could take. It made him woozy. Made his eyelids flutter. His body was alight with feelings again. Pleasure. Pain. It was all the same to him now. He was overwhelmed. They moved with such synchronicity that it felt as though he was being fucked by a single rod. If the tail pulled out of his mouth, the tongue pushed into his passage. If the tail pushed into his mouth, the tongue pushed out.

Back and forth. In and out. Back and forth. In and out.

_ Back and forth. In… and out… Back and… forth… _

This black goo he kept on drinking, he supposed, was turning his brain into mush. So much so that he didn’t feel when the beast tongued directly at his prostate. Over and over again. Making him harden. Making him leak copious amounts. Making him grunt around the thing in his mouth. His entire body was a sexual organ, covered in erogenous zones that screamed at the mere touch of the beast’s bristly fur. He shuddered and shivered and panted—

No. He didn’t pant. He couldn’t pant. He couldn’t breathe! Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Rowan was aware that he couldn’t breathe, aware of the dense dollop of black tar covering his nose and mouth. It was siphoning the air right out of his lungs. He was choking. He was sputtering. And it kept feeding him the stuff which made him too weak to retaliate.

His eyes rolled back, his consciousness leaving him momentarily as an intense wave of sensation washed over him. Like an orgasm, but stronger. Strong enough to make him faint as his body writhed with his climax. Nothing came out of his cock, however, and the beast kept plowing his ass with its tongue for a long time.

It kept toying with him whilst he was unable to react. And when the sticky, black tendril finally eased its way out of his throat, and he could finally breathe after who knows how long, his mind returned to him, crashed into him with a harsh, but soundless  _ bang! _ And his cock erupted, white spunk flying across his chest, hitting his chin, mingling with the black goo still staining his skin. He came again and again, without no end, it seemed. It hurt. It felt good. Pent up pleasure in need of an outlet was finally being released all at once.

_ “Aaaaaahh! Uuuuhhhhuhhh! Uhn! Aaah!!” _ Rowan screamed with each shot. He lost count of how many times he’d shot. He couldn’t tell how long his orgasm had lasted. He sure as hell didn’t know what the beast had done to him, but it was gone now.

His climax slowly waded. His body relaxed and his cock went soft. And then he could breathe properly, without panting or choking. He looked around his room and, in fact, saw no trace of the beast or Aamon. He was alone. And it was cold—he was a wet, sticky mess and his clothes were in tatters. Had the beast ripped them? It could have with its teeth and claws. He pushed the thought out of his mind and sat up before laying right back down onto his side with a severe hiss.

It hurt inside, a dull throbbing pain telling him something had stretched him a little too wide. Of course, the beast had likely had its way with him while he was unconscious. Rowan could not bring himself to hate the poor creature.

It took him a while to get to his feet, and even after a few successful tries, the severity of the cramps and soreness brought him back down onto his side. A few more tries and he managed to pad gingerly towards his bathroom. The black gunk was damn near impossible to wash off, and the beast had been generous with the load it had left inside of him.

He felt better when he came out clean and refreshed and all the more uneasy about this place.

“I can’t leave on my own,” he noted, “but maybe the beast will help me.”


	14. Day 14: Dirty Talk (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MM, omegaverse, degradation, dirty talk, deepthroating, BDSM - puppy play

**Day 14: Dirty Talk**

This was the first time Morgan had gone into heat since the birth of their latest pup, their little girl Nesrine, and it was hitting the Omega hard with intense waves of lusting the likes Zach had never seen. The mere proximity of his mate was enough to make him nearly delirious with want, but to have him at his feet, his ass raised high whilst he slurped at the bowl just as he’d been commanded to… God, the sight moved Zach in ways he would never admit.

_ I must be the luckiest Alpha there ever lived,  _ he thought reverently. He did not speak his thoughts, however. Instead, he said, “Look at you… groveling like the filthy whore you are…” He felt guilty saying this about his mate, whom he’d sworn to love and respect until death parted them, but it also made him feel powerful, in control, and oh-so possessive.

Morgan looked up from his bowl, eyelids heavy and dark with desire. His cheeks were flushed such a delightful shade, glistening with a fine sweat pearling at the tip of his chin. Zach could almost swoon over such an enraptured image of his mate. He resisted the urge to touch the Omega.

“N-need you, Alpha,” Morgan said, his voice husky and needy. “Need you inside… Please, Alpha…”

_ Alpha… _ Zach thought. His mate wasn’t wrong to him with such formality. Even so, he felt peevish and he saw this as an opportunity to discipline his new puppy. So he reached behind the Omega’s head to adjust the collar there, raise it a little higher so he didn’t hurt his mate as he planned to give the leash a reprimanding tug. Morgan’s insistence on brushing his nose to Zach’s open palm made the task more difficult than it ought to be. Nevertheless, when he felt the time right, he held the leash’s loop and slammed his foot on the lead, bringing Morgan’s upper body back down to where his mouth hung just a little over his bowl.

“A good bitch doesn’t let his wine go wasted,” Zach said, his tone so cold and even, he surprised even himself with it. He hadn’t ever spoken to Morgan in this manner, at least not ever outside of this room. Sir wasn’t pleased with the Omega, however, finding this one impudent and rude. And he was in every right to reprimand the man.

“And you call me ‘Sir’,” he said coldly.

Morgan gave a half-hearted struggle to rise, but the leash was pulled taut, with Zach’s heavy foot weighing squarely on it, and he could not move. He whined, discontented, but at last fell into place and resumed his messy—and undeniably lewd—slurping.

Zach grinned, a smug emotion building inside of him, although his lips quickly became a flat line again. Morgan was submissive. Subservient. The perfect puppy…  _ What a bore. _ He liked Morgan on his hands and knees, slurping wine from a dog bowl at his feet. The perfect puppy! Ready to obey at the snap of a finger! Nevertheless, it felt cheap; there was no challenge in this. No one to push against his orders. No one to bite back and make him work. This was easy and he suddenly didn’t like easy. Morgan wasn’t easy, so why did he act it?

He didn’t want to go against his own orders, however, so he looked for a way to rile his Omega a little. What could he do that would make his mate disobey? The answer had been in front of him all along, with his ass swaying from side to side, shaking his little tail. Yes. This would do just fine. So he grabbed the tail and gave it a good tug.

The plug was torn from Morgan’s ass, a dirty  _ pop! _ resonating when the thickest part of the toy was released, deposited on the ground beside him where he could still reach.

_ “Aaaaaahhhhh!” _ the Omega moaned loud and long. His body jerked, tugging on the restraints of the leash with enough unmitigated strength that Zach had almost lost him, and then his reaction tapered to a more demure groaning as his hips bucked helplessly in the air.

Zach pulled and stomped on the leash again, bringing Morgan back down to the bowl. “What did I just tell you?” he said accusingly. Of course, it had all been his fault. “Seems to me like…” He cracked the loop of the belt across the arm of the chair. He didn’t scold Morgan for looking up then. He smirked at the evidently hesitant curiosity in his mate’s eyes. Zach continued, but lowered his voice to a deep rumble like a growl. He said, “Seems to me like someone needs to be taught how to behave!”

Morgan shuddered visibly, apprehension painted all over his face and excited elation tainting his heated scent. Good. Zach wanted his Omega needy, hungry, but also a little fearful and powerless.

He grabbed his mate by the collar and hoisted him between his legs. Morgan managed to topple the bowl of red liquid on his clumsy four-legged gait. All over Zach’s black leather oxford shoes. They both looked down at the Alpha’s feet for a moment. The guilt and apprehension in Morgan’s scent translated beautifully on his face. Zach wasn’t bothered in the least; he’d bought these shoes to wear only in their basement, during scenes. Nonetheless…

“And we’re going to start with this,” Zach concluded. He pulled on Morgan’s collar to direct him to his left foot. Morgan went only hesitantly, looking up pleadingly. Zach clicked his tongue at his mate. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, mocking the poor man. “That’s where you belong, isn’t it? At my feet. Begging to be fucked like the bitch in heat that you are. Go on! Beg, bitch.”

His words were cold, he knew, and sometimes he felt himself stumble over them as he found them hard to say. This whole scene was all make belief, yet he remained cautious.

Morgan gave him a final long pleading look, but resigned himself when Zach insistently nodded to his soiled shoe. The first few licks were tentative, little kitten licks, but the Omega gradually became more invested in the chore. Before long, he was so entranced, it seemed, by his shoe, that he hardly reacted when he spoke. “You’re a thirsty little slut, aren’t you! I bet you’re just dying for a drink of thick Alpha cum!”

Nothing. The only thing Zach heard was the suckling and wet slap of tongue against leather between desperate gulps. Morgan did not answer him.

He took the toy from earlier, Morgan’s tail, and devised that if the Omega wouldn’t react to him, that he would react to something thick and hard going in and out of him. As expected, Morgan keened at the feel of the flared tip brush his rim. He twisted his hips, as if to invite Zach to violate him, and his hole just about swallowed the toy.

_ “Aaah!” _ Morgan cried when the widest part of the plug went into him. He pushed his upper body up and arched his back just as Zach pulled the toy back out. Pushed it in again. Pulled it out. Pushed it in. Pulled. Pushed.

He made Morgan moan in the sweetest, neediest voice he knew his Omega could muster.

Morgan writhed to the sound of his own voice, competing with himself, moaning louder to drown out the echoes of his own wantonness. His hips bucked, making the stiff cock hanging between his legs bob helplessly, sending thick, sticky pre flying messily between his belly and the floor. His hole was being stretched time and again and there was delighted pleasure for that in his scent. And when Zach’s voice reached him, he cried out with a deprivation of desire.

_ “Aaaaahhhh… Please, Alpha!”  _ he groaned pitifully, not caring what he looked like.  _ “I need it! Bigger… I need more!” _

Zach scoffed. “Typical whore,” he said almost contemptuously. He lashed at Morgan’s rear, across one cheek, with the loop of the leash. It cracked like thunder, sharp and loud, and it left an angry red mark.

Morgan gasped and his arms bent from under the weight of his upper body.

_ “Unnngh… Yes! G-good!” _

Morgan looked wrecked, but not quite as wrecked as when Zach pressed the toy’s base. He didn’t force his mate’s passage, not to lose the toy within, but enough pressure was applied to push the toy against his prostate just so. A shout fell from his mouth when Zach nudged the plug, making it tap at his prostate. Rubbing. Grinding. Drilling. It made his Omega drool, tongue lolling like a dog, body trembling like a leaf.

“You clean a mess of wine on my shoes,” Zach said before cracking the leash against Morgan’s other asscheek.  _ Snap! _ “And then you go and make another mess, but with spit!”

_ Snap! Snap! Snap! _

_ “Hnnnngh! Uuuuuhhhhuuuuhhh… I-I’m s...sorry, Alpha,” _ Morgan groaned.

_ Snap! _

“It’s ‘Sir’!”

_ “Ooooohhh… G-god, yes, so good!” _

_ Snap! _

And with that last lash, he yanked the toy out of Morgan, tossing it absent-mindedly to the side, and pinched his cheeks to yank him back up. Their lips were just a breath away from touching, and the Omega tried to steal a kiss from Zach, but was immediately refused such pleasures.

“Are you enjoying this?” Zach asked, his voice almost a hiss.

Morgan laced his fingers behind his head in an attempt to pull him down for a kiss. He shook himself free of his mate’s hands, one of which he grasped roughly and twisted. The Omega whined, but more so in unjust disappointment rather than pain. Zach entertained the image of the tough lover with the savage grips and pulls, but he didn’t legitimately intend to hurt his mate.

“Well!” He shook Morgan and reiterated, “Are you? Is this what my little slut wants?”

Perhaps Morgan’s answer should’ve surprised him, but it didn’t.

_ “Yessss… I wanna be your little slut! I can be a g-good little slut!” _ Morgan whimpered and thrashed where he knelt like a child throwing a tantrum. In this moment, he was probably no better than a child in some ways. On second thought…

_ “I want your knot, Alpha! I need your knot inside my ass! I’m s-so… empty… I need cum!” _

“Fucking whore doesn’t learn!” Zach growled. He pushed Morgan’s face onto his crotch, the heat of the Omega’s breath making the hard bulge in his pants twitch. “Here! Have as much as you like!” He held his mate there whilst he single-handedly unfastened his pants and hurriedly working them down low enough that his cock could spring free to hit Morgan on the cheek. The Omega didn’t need much time to acclimate to this sudden turn of events.

Morgan seemed to only need one sniff of Zach’s virile musk to make him open his mouth, tongue sticking out. Zach slapped his length to it, relishing the noise of wet flesh meeting dry flesh and in the soft mewls of his mate.

“This what you want?” Zach asked, a devilish grin splayed on his features.

Morgan made a noise as if to agree. It showed in his eyes; the aroma of an Alpha thick heat made him woozy with sensation. When Zach’s eyes travelled down the length of his front, he’d see his mate rock hard, jutting straight out from its trimmed bush, and a little pearl of translucent fluid gathering at the tip.

“Yeah,” he said with a jeering scoff, “You like that alright. Maybe you are a good bitch afterall.”

Morgan, again, did not answer with words. Rather, he craned his neck to reach for Zach’s pulsing length and swallowed the head. Zach gripped his hair, a full grip with a strong grasp, and guided the Omega down his length. Little by little, his cock disappeared into that wet, warm cavern.

“Ffffffuck!” Zach groaned. The tightness and suction of his mate’s mouth made his nerves spark with pleasure. He had to mind himself to not buck his hips and push Morgan all the way down in a single motion. “Yes, god, Morgan… I’m fuck that mouth of yours until you can’t fucking talk anymore—hngh!”

Morgan choked on a delighted purr as he finally took Zach’s cock all the way to the base.

His mate wanted to come back up, but Zach thought it was too soon to be relaxing on the job, and he still had to properly punish his Omega. So he held the man there, mouth full of him, the tip of his nose buried into the dark, coarse curls of his pubis, mouth flush to his body, and rocked his hips. Morgan gagged around him, his body rejection his cock, but he didn’t quite care for that. In fact, he loved the sensation of the Omega’s hot throat closing and quivering helplessly around him.

_ “Such a dirty—mmmmff! God, fuck…” _ Zach’s words were cut off, dying on the tip of his tongue, as he moaned. He let Morgan rise finally, after his hands clasped at the fabric of his slacks, and this time, he couldn’t resist the urge to fuck his cock down the Omega’s throat. His body reacted out of its own volition to chase the feelings of his pleasure whilst Morgan settled on a slow pace.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Over and over. From the head of his cock, which he sucked and licked reverently, to the base he swallowed greedily.

_ “O-ooh, god… Yes, that’s a good little slut. My perfect little whore. Uuuuunnfff!” _ Moans and praise rolled off of Zach’s tongue. He pushed Morgan's head down when he wanted his mate to go faster, told him when to suck harder, and even warned him of when he would start thrusting.

_ “I’m close, Morgan—mmmm!” _ he said. His grip over the Omega’s head changed. It became steadier, better to hold Morgan still while he fucked his face. The first thrust was deep, maybe even cruel, and it made Morgan flinch hard, but Zach didn’t stop.  _ “You love the taste of my cock, don’t you?” No answer. He went on, “That’s all you’re good for: sucking and taking my dick. You want me to fill you up, don’t you? You’re such a thirsty whore. I’m going to plow your brain into—uuuuuuuhhh! G-god, fuck, yes! Fuck, fuck, fffff...f-fuck!” _

He pulled Morgan down on his cock while he rolled his hips upwards, tears prickling the Omega’s eyes, and with a few more brutal thrusts, he came with a mighty howl tapering off into a series of low, long groans. He held himself deep inside Morgan’s mouth, savouring his last moments in that gentle wet heat. “You better not waste it, bitch. Swallow my load.”

Morgan did as he was told, albeit with quite a bit of difficulty as his throat constantly closed around Zach’s flared head. When he’d swallowed all he was given, Zach let him come up, at which point he suffered a coughing fit.

Between Morgan’s legs, his cock was already beginning to soften. Seeing this, Zach smirked and gave him a sharp slap to the right cheek—only strong enough to make a noise. Before Morgan could recover, he grabbed his chin with his fingers and forced him to look up.

“Still making a mess I see?” Zach couldn’t even see a hint of guilty within those sultry, heat-lust hazel eyes. “What made you come? Swallowing my cum, or having your face used?”

Through the haze, Morgan answered, “Both…”

Zach took the leash again, and urged Morgan down softly. “Clean up after yourself. And then I want you to go to the bed, kneel over the edge and hold your ass open. I’m want to fuck you next,” he said, and at the promise, Morgan eagerly lapped up his spend from the floor before going to the bed where he assumed the position he was to take to lure his Alpha to him. He would finally get what he craved.

Zach’s thick Alpha knot.


	15. Day 15: Nipple Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: mentions of rape & sequestration**

“Matt… Matt, please open the door…”

The silences stretching between them were long and heavy and they made Matthew hurt. He wanted to open the door. He didn’t want to be held down by his fears anymore; he had no reason why he should be fearful. Erik… was jailed. And he was free. At last.

“I’m sorry, John,” he said, still too uneasy to open the door. Even from his cell, Erik was still holding him hostage inside his own home. “I can’t…”

_ I can’t. _ Those two words broke his heart. It was getting hard to breathe, a thick and painful ball of emotions rose his throat, and his heart was pounding in his ears. His eyes stung with tears that he tried to blink away. And while it wasn’t so heavy and present, Erik’s scent still haunted him, like a ghost. He guessed Cassie had aired out his cabin before his return from the hospital so he wouldn’t be reminded of the things that asshole had done to him.

“Oh, Matthew…”

John's voice did something to him in that moment; it made him feel so vulnerable and selfish. He’d never wanted an Alpha’s help, and yet, he felt he needed it now. He wasn’t safe here anymore.  _ No. Stop it. Erik’s not coming back. Ever! _

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” John asked.

“No,” he answered without hesitating. “No… Please stay. I… I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

“Okay. Then… I’ll sit here with you. Okay?”

Matthew did not answer and John didn’t ask him to. They simply sat together now, on opposite sides of the door. For a long time, he could hear nothing on John’s end, save for the night sounds coming from the forest a few yards behind his cabin. That and the crickets.

It was strange, he supposed, to have such a relationship with a man. John had seen him bare, and the thought didn’t bother him as much as he expected it to. He wanted to see the Alpha naked just as he was, but perhaps under less traumatic circumstances. What would he look like? He was young, and certainly virile, but would he have some softness to his belly? Or was it all hardened muscles? And what did his penis look like?

“It’s a beautiful night. There’s a million stars out.”

John’s voice snapped him from his indecent thoughts, thoughts he now found inappropriate. He felt ashamed. “S-sorry, what?”

John laughed. “The sky. I’m saying that there’s a bunch of stars out tonight.”

“Oh,” Matt said, “I’d like to see them with you…”

“You could.”

Matthew shuffled from his place on the ground, and reached for the doorknob, but stopped before he could open the door. His hand shook too much and his palm was already so clammy that he could hardly grasp the brass knob. In the end, Matt did not open the door. And John did not ask him to.

“I’m sorry,” John eventually said.

“Sorry for what?”

There was a sigh. A long pause. And then John said, “When I first came here, I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, I did!” Matt quipped back.

John chuckled light-heartedly, but he recovered some semblance of seriousness before he spoke again. “No! That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I thought you had a problem with me and I didn’t understand why… I thought you were just one of those quote-unquote Omegas who ‘don’t need no Alpha around’.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry about the way I treated you at first,” Matt said.

John made a hum, a disapproving sound. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Matt… If anything, I should be the one who’s sorry. I should’ve known that you were…”

John’s voice tapered into silence and Matthew wondered why. What was he about to say just now? What should he have known? He felt he might not like to hear what the Alpha had almost said just then, but he couldn’t help himself. “Should’ve known what?”

“Uh, n-nevermind,” John replied in a low whisper. “It’s not important anymore. It’s over and… and I’m never going to allow anything bad to ever happen to you again. I swear it.”

“Oh,” Matt said. This was about Erik… “Can we… not talk about it? I-I mean anymore?”

“Of course!”

They didn’t talk about Erik again, and Matthew was grateful for John’s chattery disposition. The man was almost twenty years younger than him, and still full of dreams. Matt remembered having such big dreams once upon a time. Now, however, he felt dull and listless. Most of the time, at least. He felt good when he had John close by. And the horses. And Cassie, Philip, and Little Clem… The ranch staff was his family, he realized, but the ranch itself wasn’t his home. It no longer was. Not for as long as he lived in this cabin. It smelled too much of— _ No. Remember what you just said. _

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“If I let you in…” Matt licked his lips. His throat was dry. “If… I let you in, will you… umm… do it?”

“Do what?” John asked innocently.

“Oh, you know… With me?”

“I’m not getting it, Matt,” John said. “Just tell me what you need. If it’s something I can do, I’ll do it.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, but held back on a grumble; of course he wouldn’t get the hint! And Matt was too bashful to ask for it directly. He played the words in his head, tried to hear what they would sound like coming from his mouth.  _ Will you have sex with me? Will you fuck me? Will you hold me? Will you make love to me? _ Why did all of these sound so wrong? They felt too formal, too vulgar, too needy, and too corny respectively. Even so, he felt it would alleviate what remained of Erik’s scent.

“I… need you, John,” he said, only to immediately regret it because the Alpha said nothing in reply. In fact, John… hung up. Matt’s stomach sank low, very low. “Hello? John?” He looked at the screen of his phone. It read:  _ Call ended. _

No, no, no, no! That couldn’t be happening! Not now!

He jumped to his feet, unlocked the bolt, and yanked his door open. He was ready to break into a sprint, to chase after John. After all this, he could hardly believe that John didn’t want to bed him. Even after learning of his  _ secret _ , the Alpha had remained protective of him. Did it mean that the night they’d shared together on his couch had meant nothing? Sure they hadn’t gone all the way, but they had been far too intimate still for it to mean nothing!

“John—!!”

Matthew stopped dead in his tracks as an Alpha stood squarely in his door, blocking the way out. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach twisted when he thought he saw Erik standing there. He had to blink a few times to recover his senses and see that he wasn’t face-to-face with the subject of his nightmares, but rather with John.

John was standing there.

Looking at him.

He stared back.

John didn’t move.

Matt hesitated.

“I… I…” he was mute.

“You thought I’d leave you?” John asked, his tone wounded. Matt couldn’t answer. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh, why would I ever leave you, Matt? I’m not ever leaving you alone. I mean it.”

Matt believed him.

“Can I come in now?” John asked.

Matt stared on, a little dumbfounded. The door was wide open and he’d invited the man to share his bed. Why would he ask for permission to come in?

Ah. He understood.

John was asking for permission to show that he could be respectful, and maybe also give him a chance to change his mind. An Alpha never impeded on an Omega’s nest without permission as such was regarded as highly disrespectful. Erik had never cared for such things.

Matt stepped aside and nodded. “Yes, please.”

John’s eyes twinkled, the blue of his irises so vibrant in the dim light of the cabin, and he boasted a proud smile that made Matt’s insides ache with a strange fluttery sensation. Yes, he wanted this Alpha to smile at him like that. He wanted this Alpha who’d look at him with that kind of adoration. He needed John, needed the man to make him feel good. He needed this so desperately.

“Are you okay?” John asked him. He reached to touch his cheek, a soft caress meant to soothe rather than enrapture and break.

Nevertheless, it made his heart ache for something he’d never realized he needed.

He blinked away the tears welling in his eyes and forced himself to turn his gaze upon the floor. He nodded. He was fine. With John here, he was perfectly fine. He felt—oh, the thought made him so giddy—he felt loved!

To distract himself and prevent this overwhelming emotion from tearing his defences down any further, he moved to the kitchenette and pulled two beers out of the fridge.

“Do you want a beer?” he asked, handing one over to the other man. He didn’t have a bottle opener, so he only kept the twist-off caps. John took it gratefully, twisted the cap, and took a long swig. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed absolutely captivated all of Matt’s attention.

“God, that hits the spot just right,” John said with a loud exhale of contentment. “Not gonna drink?”

“U-uuh! Right!” Matt hurriedly twisted the cap off and pulled the drink from the neck of the bottle. Had he been caught staring, he wondered.

“Couch?” John asked.

“Sure.”

Matt followed John to the couch, although he was the only one to sit. John instead pushed the little coffee table back, put both of their beers onto its surface, and then knelt in front of him. “What are you doing?” he asked when John parted his legs to fit in between.

John paused. His eyes held a glint of reverent passion that melted through the last of Matt’s defences.

“I’m going to make love to you,” John said simply, as though it was only natural that he do so. “Isn’t that what you want? I’ve been waiting for this for a while now, but I get it if you don’t want to.”

At any other moment in his life, Matthew would have mocked that profession, but now… Now his heart felt too big for mockery. He loved this Alpha.

“Are you sure, John?” he asked.

“Never been so sure of nothing in my life.”

At that, Matthew did scoff. “You’re just twenty-one! You still got a lot of life to live.”

“And I want to live it with you, Matt,” John confessed.

“O-oh,” Matt said and averted his eyes, suddenly shy, “Well…”

He had no more words to speak, nothing to contribute to their banter. Could it be that he was merely stalling? He figured it had to be that. Matthew had a knack for self-sabotage and he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d gone and ruined his chances with this amazing guy by being too walled off. So he stayed quiet. John seemed to understand that as well.

“Can I kiss you?” John asked.

Matt shuffled back on the couch, only slightly uneasy. “Are you going to ask me permission for everything now?”

“If you want me—“

“I don’t!” Matt said, interrupting the Alpha. “I don’t… For tonight, will you treat me as… a lover?”

John looked at him curiously as though he’d said something strange. 

“But that’s what lovers do, Matt,” the Alpha finally told him. “I don’t just want to treat you as a lover, though. I want you as a mate. And as my mate, I want you to feel safe, loved, and respected.”

All those things… Matthew didn’t want to hear them, he wanted to say. The tears were coming back and, again, he had to look away from those blue eyes. Blue like the ocean… A place where he’d one day be free, far away from everything that’s ever sought to hurt him. A safe place. John was his safe place now.

“Matt,” John said softly, “Look at me.”

When Matthew refused, it was John’s gentle fingers which forced him to look in front of him again.

“I’ve never felt the need to love someone else until I met you. Let me love you. Let me love you how others should’ve loved you.”

Before the tear could trickle onto his cheek, John craned his neck, lifting himself onto his knees and kissed his mouth. Over and over again, one kiss after the other, the first of which was tender and loving, although much too short to qualm Matt’s need. One kiss turned into two, and then three, and they lost each other in the act. John tasted him, licking inside his mouth, tangling their tongues, mixing the flavours of each other's beers. And he let the Alpha rule him, setting the pace for him, and he sucked greedily, and nipped, and moaned.

When John broke their kiss, Matt whined, lips still chasing after that pressure which had left him swollen and panting. John kissed his jaw, nipped down the skin of his neck, and stopped at the collar of his sweater where he left a large hickey. It claimed him without bonding them, and he was glad for the Alpha forethought.

“Take your shirt off,” John said, his tone pressed and eager.

Matt reacted fast, obeying, and lifted his shirt over his head with John’s aid. It was done clumsily, and the fabric rubbed painfully over the underside of his chin, but he didn’t care to stop now. Their lips met again for a hungry kiss, messy and too overwhelming. Hard pressure. Teeth. Tongue. But it riled them up. And then John moved back down again. Matt was pulled towards the edge of the couch so John didn’t have to climb onto it.

Hands traveled up his back, giving his frissons, while John’s hot mouth left a trail of wet marks down to his clavicles, and then towards his left nipple. He captured it, pressing his tongue flat against his soft teat and sucking around it. Matt bucked and cried out with a sharp hiss when he was bitten there.

“John…” he said, his voice a breathy murmur.

The Alpha teased him, his nipple, with his mouth. He licked tight circles around his pebbling peak. He nibbled softly in rapid succession, and then held him between his teeth with increasing pressure until he gasped, at which point John relented and soothed his skin.

While John’s mouth was occupied by one nipple, the man’s hand played with the other, twisting, flicking, rubbing. John’s hands groped at his chest and he leaned into the touch.

“How long has it been?” John asked between suckles.

Matt answered with a breathy question of his own. “Since what?”

John gave both of his nipples a viciously hard pinch, making him yelp, and then groan when his hurt was soothed over with soft caresses. What he being… punished? He kind of liked it.

“Since you’ve had sex with anyone?” John finally clarified.

_ Three months ago; when Erik held me hostage in here and raped me… _

Matthew couldn’t say that, though. He didn’t want to think about that right now. Not when he was so close to being intimate once more. Besides, John knew what had happened. He knew everything now. So he thought it safe to assume that the Alpha was purposely disregarding those events, and Matt knew why. He could say it now:

Erik had raped him. It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t love. It was an assault, a vicious attack.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t remember the last time,” Matt said.

“Don’t remember? Then I’ll make sure you never forget today.”

“Yes… please…”

John’s hands moved to his joggings, grabbed the waistband, and yanked them off so effortlessly it seemed. With his joggings, his briefs came off, and everything was tossed on the ground. It was strange for him to find himself with nothing but his socks on, but the way John looked at him with raw desire and admiration made him feel good. He liked having the Alpha’s eyes on him.

John pulled him a little bit further, just enough so that half of his ass hung off of the edge, and lifted his right knee over the taller man’s shoulder. He was open like this, and John had access to all of him.

A thick finger brushed over his hole and Matt gasped, bracing himself for the sting of being penetrated without any preparation. He felt pressure testing his rim’s breach, but then nothing.

“Do you have some lube?” John asked.

Matthew thought, but shook his head ‘no’. When John tried to move away from him, he dug his heel into the man’s back and wrapped the other around his waist. “No!” he said, not ready for this to end. “No… Please don’t go. Keep going.”

“But it’s gonna hurt—“

“I don’t care about that!” Matt said desperately. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth again because the more he spoke, the more he trembled, but he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t care… I need you, John. Please… I smell him in this house still. It’s like he’s still here for me. I need you to take me. Please… Please…” He was crying by the time he stopped talking and John’s expression turned dark.

“I’ll make sure of it,” John said, nodding. And Matt couldn’t help but find him both endearingly loyal and fearsome.

John presented him with two of his thick fingers to suck on. “Get the wet,” he said. Matt complied and took the digits in his mouth. They went deep, triggering his gag reflexes, but he fought through the way his body lurched because of the sensation and lapped at them regardless. He stopped, however, choking on a gasp, when John took his cock and massaged it. He tried to buck into the feeling buck he couldn’t find the strength to do so properly. And then, when he was fully erect, John took him in his mouth.

_ “Mmmmrfff!” _ he groaned, but John pushed his fingers further into his mouth.

The Alpha popped off his cock and said, “Keep sucking.”

When he obeyed, licking the digits again, John resumed his blowjob. Long, slow movements up and down the length of his shaft. All the way to the base and then back up to the very tip. It procured him with an easy, steady, yet intense building pleasure in his loins, and he seemed to forget what he was to do for a moment. Then he remembered.

Saliva escaped from the corners of his mouth by the time he decided he’d had enough. He was close, but he didn’t want to finish like this. He turned his head and spit the fingers out, a thick, frothy string of saliva still connecting them to his lips. “Enough! Put it in! Please!”

As commanded, John’s hand returned below to pry at his hole. He lifted his mouth off of Matt’s cock, but kept jerking it with his free hand with languid strokes.

“Look at me when I penetrate you,” the Alpha told him.

Matthew flushed with such embarrassment he thought he might rather die, but he looked into those ocean blue eyes nonetheless. One finger went in slowly. Easing in with gentle, shallow thrusts. In and out. In and out. Little by little. Wiggling all the way inside his body. “H-hurry…” Matt hissed. Another finger was inserted in much the same way. When they were both sheathed inside, John began curling them, searching for something.

“Tell me where it feels good, Matt.”

“More… that way,” he said, nodding his head to the left. John moved while simultaneously stroking his cock. “Mmm, a little… m-more—aaah! There!” His body rolled with the sensation of having his prostate touched.

John took his cock into his mouth again and tapped on that spot that made him see stars. His body vibrated with pleasure, too much but also not enough at the same time. Fingers pinched at his nipples, enhancing the spark of delightful tormenting coursing up and down his spine. Matt bucked upwards, rocked his ass back, and kicked his head back as he lost himself in white pleasure.

When his orgasm finally took him, he didn’t hold back his moans. He came with a shout,  _ “Hngh!! J-John, I’m c-cumming! Cum—mmmm! God, fffffffuck!” _ He thrust his hips hard, spilling his load into John’s mouth, trembled vividly. The pleasure blinded him, numbed him, crashed into him with such force that, when he finally shagged back down, boneless and spent, his ears rang.

John climbed over him to kiss his lips, to pry his mouth open and share his seed. He wasn’t alone anymore. And something about the fervent passion in the Alpha’s kiss told him just that.


	16. Day 19: Double Penetration (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... I skipped a few days. Oops. They're not ready yet! I'm sorry! And now I'm working on some Kinkmas stuff! I promise, however, that I will complete this Kinktober collection!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW: M/M/M, double penetration, incest - twincest)

When Akeem stirred that night, it was to the familiar, albeit one-sided, bedroom noises he heard emanating from beside him. It was incessant, and it bothered him at first, but the more Akeem listened, the tighter his britches became.

_ “Uuuuuuuuhhhhh… ffffffuck, yes… So g-good, Fakhir. Gods, please d… don’t stop.” _

He recognized Sokari’s voice. His ears twitched and the tip of his tail flicked with annoyance.

Unlike them—Sokari and Fakhir—Akeem was exhausted from a hot day out in the sun. He would have kept his eyes closed if he weren’t so desperate for even a little bit of friction. But he was already grinding against the pillow under his waist. Humping with careful rolls of his hips, the slow build-up of feelings, so he wouldn’t run the risk of being caught by his twin of their gang’s leader.

_ “Oh, fuck!!”  _ Sokari gasped out in surprise, and Akeem startled to hear his brother shout without warning. Fakhir’s thrusts quickened, becoming frantic with the pressing need for an orgasm. And Akeem’s own needs got the best of him.

He dared a glance over his shoulder to find Sokari’s back turned to him with Fakhir seated facing him, but he couldn’t see the coyote with his brother in the way. It gave him the perfect view of the place where the two of them were connected. Cock plunging in again and again.  _ In. Out. In. Out. _ Skin slapping, wet in places dry in others. And it was more than Akeem would have liked to see at that point of the night. He wanted to  _ feel _ it for himself now.

Carefully, he pushed himself up on his knees and hands. His movement alerted Fakhir, but otherwise appeared to go unnoticed by his brother. He looked at Fakhir and Fakhir looked at him. The coyote nodded.

Akeem quietly shuffled out of his trousers, revealing the semi-erect cock between his thighs. He pumped his length a few times to reach his full hardness. He crossed the distance between himself and his brother by doing the awkward knee-shuffle until his hand touched Sokari’s shoulder.

“A-Akeem! Holy—fuck, man!” Sokari yelped and his body went rigid. Fakhir stopped fucking him while Akeem lined himself up. “What d’you thing you’re doing?”

“Joining in,” Akeem said simply.

“Oh no, you aren’t!” Sokari hissed at him, but from his position, and with the way Fakhir held him, he couldn’t fight back Akeem’s advances.

Akeem brought his knees apart, lowered his waist, and found his brother’s stretched hole. He forced the breach with a single finger first, making Sokari wince and hiss again. Then he guided the head of his cock to press up against the sphincter, pushed, and groaned when he finally penetrated his brother’s tight heat. Sokari made a choked sound, something between a sob and a moan, and clung to the coyote as though it would keep him grounded.

_ “O-oooh, Gods… No, I can’t—mmm! F… f-fffuck, Akeem!” _

“Start—nngh—moving,” Fakhir told Akeem once he bottomed out.

Akeem shuddered at the feeling of his brother’s ass enveloping him so completely. He pulled out slowly, and then pushed back in. He felt the coyote’s cock alongside his own. A low purr broke out from deep in his chest as he pressed it to Sokari’s sweaty back.

Slowly, Fakhir started moving with him, the two finding their tempo as they gradually sped up the bucking of their hips. When Akeem pushed in, Fakhir pulled out; when Akeem pulled out, Fakhir pushed in.

Sokari cried out breathlessly as everything thrust left him weak and siphoned the air out of his lungs.

_ “You’re so fucking tight!” _ Akeem growled.

He snapped his hips hard, driving his cock deeper, and Sokari responded beautifully by falling towards the coyote to better offer himself to Akeem. He also leaned forward to bring his mouth to the flesh of his brother’s shoulder, which he bit, kissed, and licked until his twin was covered in naughty little marks. Fakhir did the same on the other side, and Sokari’s body trembled between them for that.

They kept a steady pace.  _ In. Out. In. Out. _ And then Sokari came with a shout, semen spurting between his belly and that of Fakhir’s. His insides spasmed around the two cocks, which brought Fakhir to his own explosive climax. Akeem lingered behind.

“Can I keep going?” Akeem asked Sokari.

“H-hurry, Akeem,” Sokari answered.

He did just that. He gripped his brother’s shoulders and drove his cock in and out hard and fast. Skin slapped, balls tapped, and his breaths came out as painful, ragged wheezing. Sweat broke out on his forehead with his efforts until, finally, his hips stuttered.  _ “Fucking—I’m cumming! Gods… Yes! Cumming!” _ he growled just in time for the first shot.

He pumped his seed into his brother’s ass, came hard and long as he kept thrusting to draw his orgasm on as long as he could manage it. His body shivered and trembled with each wave of numbing pleasure, and indecent moans rolled off of his tongue uninhibited.

Finally, he fell limp, damp chest to damp back, and his legs no longer supported him. It was now up to Fakhir to hold both of their weight as the trio panted for breath.

Akeem lapped over the love marks he’d left on his brother while Sokari slowly dozed, limp and boneless in both the coyote and Akeem’s arms. A deep, reverberating purr settled in Sokari then and it made Akeem proud.

“He fell asleep,” Fakhir said just when Akeem recovered a small portion of his strength.

He nodded. So it seemed. He too could go for some shut-eye, he supposed. Unlike Fakhir, however, who took care of cleaning his brother up after their agitated romping session, Akeem merely wiped some sweat from his chest with a silken sheet, as well as the cum now growing tacky on his dick.

He returned to the nest of pillows and linens he shared with Sokari and put himself to bed, much to the coyote’s consternation.

“Wait, you’re not just going to—“ Before Fakhir could even finish his thought out loud, Akeem had already closed his eyes and drifted off. The coyote was then left with the clean up of two overly energetic fennec fox twins on his hands.

“Damn kids…” Fakhir growled under his breath.


	17. Day 20: Temperature Play (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These characters are not my own. If you are familiar with Mill Milk, then you will be familiar with these same characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW: Omegaverse, outdoor sex, public sex, cockwarming, temperature play)

“Wait a couple of minutes before coming out after me.”

That was what Davie had told him some fifteen minutes ago just before leaving the tent they shared with two friends, another couple. Two sweet Betas, Alice and Derek, who were quiet enough, didn’t snore, and understood the importance of respecting certain invisible boundaries without needing to be told. The only downfall was Derek’s affinity for fishing, which meant the man was up at the crack of dawn.

However, Milo had been alone with Davie then. Fifteen minutes ago. With his pants down to his ankles while the Alpha held him steady by the arm. He’d hurt then. Fifteen minutes ago. He hurt because of the frozen oil being forced into his body. It didn’t hurt him inside. Hell, Milo couldn’t even feel it once it got sucked into him, but it had felt cold and painful the whole way in. Now, he didn’t feel the cold, but he felt it melt and leak.

Fifteen minutes ago, he was left alone to wait for a proper time to go find his Alpha. Now, he was helplessly caught in a pointless conversation with Alice who complained about Derek’s early morning tendencies. The oil was seeping from his hole, though he clenched hard and squeezed his thighs to stop the leakage, and his briefs were soaking it up, making it squelch when he shuffled.

He loved Alice; she truly had a heart of gold that one. Even, the girl could talk to no ends, and he knew she would if he didn’t cut her off, but Milo didn’t like confrontation and he worried she might find him offensive if he silenced her.

He tapped the screen of his phone. There was no reception out here in the woods, but he kept the device to tell the time.  _ Seventeen minutes… _

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had to get out of here before Alice noticed him squirming and hardening in his pants. He was already springing a half-chub, which he hid easily enough by keeping his thighs positioned just right that his dick didn’t tent his pants. Explaining his anticipatory erection to his friend wasn’t something he wanted to do.

_ This is so awkward… We shouldn’t have done this. _

He was struck by good fortune, however, when Alice brought the neck of her glass bottle and pulled… nothing. Her beer was empty. “Can you go get me another, babe?” she asked and handed the empty one over to Milo who gladly bound from his place on his bunk.

“Sure!” he said, hiding his eagerness to get away from his friend.

“Thanks. Mine is the Coors. The Bud is Derek’s.”

He scurried out of the tent, leaving her by herself and stalked to the communal ground. There were three more tents pitched in a circle, with the barbeque and two large tables set up in the center. During the day, they gathered here as a group to cook and play games and socialize. At night, they either gathered by one of the fire pits scattered about the camping grounds.  _ I hope Davie went to the one furthest from the camp, _ Milo gave the air a tentative sniff. He couldn’t go find the Alpha yet. He had to fetch Alice another beer. He did just that.

He fished from the cooler he knew belonged to Derek and Alice. While they weren’t opposed to sharing food as a group—with everyone being responsible for bringing something for the whole group—they were made to bring their own alcohol. He took a Coors Light from within the ice and returned to his friend.

He peeked into the tent without stepping fully inside; he didn’t want to give Alice the opportunity to force him into another conversation. She took her cold drink from him after he forced the top off for her.

“What a gentleman,” she purred, blowing him a kiss, “Maybe I ought to marry you instead of Derek.”

Milo smiled a little. It was nothing really, and he knew her comment was more to tease than to flatter. She liked flirting and he didn’t mind it with her. It was easy because she didn’t put any importance, any value in her words.

“I’ll be back in a little bit. Just gonna go see if Davie needs anything,” he told her.

“Mm-hmm.” Alice pursed her lips suspiciously. “Right, and by ‘a little bit’ you mean in, like, two hours. After you’re done jumping your Alpha.”

“W-wha!? No! I’m not going to…” the words escaped him when Alice gave him a look of pure and utter disbelief. There was no fooling the Beta. He should have known better. So he lowered his voice before continuing, “We just… need a little bit of time, Alice.”

“Oh yeah! I get it! You think Derek and I haven’t fucked yet?”

Milo cringed. “I… don’t want to know that…”

“Damn right you don’t,” she said, laughing. “We’re wild, Milo. The things Derek and I do… They’d mark you, I can guarantee you that.”

He briefly wondered about what she could possibly mean by that but chose against asking any further questions. She said she was tired and assured him she’d be asleep by the time he and Davie returned to the tent. She asked that they not wake her upon their return, and then muttered something about being woken up by Derek anyways. He gave her a sympathetic smile, lingering a few long seconds, but she swatted her hand, gesturing for him to leave. Milo left his tent and went back to the communal grounds where he grabbed two beers from his and Davie’s cooler.

A quick look around allowed him to see where everyone was situated. Davie, however, was nowhere to be found. As Milo had hoped, the Alpha had opted for the secluded fire pit. Knowing that allowed Milo to let go of some of the tension in his body, only for a dribble of oil to slip from his body. He tensed up again. It took every ounce of self-control he had in him to bite back the moan welling up in his throat.

He saw his Alpha’s back before this one could notice him, and he stopped in his tracks. Admiring the man’s broad back. Strong shoulders. Even hunched over, Davarius looked monstrously big. Massive. Tall with a heavy, muscular build. Lean, hard muscles Milo wanted to bite into. He reached behind himself to tug at his underwear. They were sticking to his asscheeks because of the oil, and when he walked, they shifted and bundled up in his crease awkwardly. It didn’t help that he was at half-mast.

He approached carefully, sliding his feet just so to make sure he didn’t surprise his mate. Davie didn’t move from the camping chair he was seated in. The fire cast a divine halo around his form but shrouded everything else in pitch-black darkness.

“Davie?” he said, unable to mask the arousal in his voice.

“Took you long enough,” his Alpha said dryly.

The man didn’t turn to face him, which Milo found strange. Even when he stood by his side, Davie didn’t look up at him or touch him. So he touched the butt of the cool bottle of beer to the Alpha’s shoulder, a light touch to get his attention, not shock him. After a moment, Davie took the bottle, twisted the cap, threw it into the fire, and pulled a long swig of the drink.

“I’m sorry I made you wait…”

“Only thirty minutes,” Davie said dismissively, but his face was scowling deeply at the fire. “Not like either of us have anywhere else to be while we’re out in the woods. S’fine.”

Clearly, the Alpha wasn’t fine. “But you’re angry…”

“I’m not—“

The Alpha stopped abruptly as their eyes met. There was clearly anger in his dark eyes, but Milo saw something else in them, a reflection of how he felt inside, of how his body was burning with desire. There was a flame in the Alpha’s eyes and it made his knees weak. He felt it under his skin, in his cock, and his balls.

Davie looked away first, laughing mirthlessly.

“Have you seen your face, Milo?” he asked but didn’t expect an answer.

“My face?”

“Your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

Milo held his beer in one hand and stroked his mate’s cheek with the other. He had Davie twist the cap off of his beer, making sure to ask nicely and to give generous praise. His Alpha’s scent boiled with the sticky scent of tar, but he kind of liked it. He also liked the way the smell of wet wood drying under the sun tainted his mate when he complimented him on his ability to provide and keep him happy. He was, in fact, so goddamn happy with this man.

Through his careful coaxing, Davie eventually touched him. One big hand sliding under his shirt, over his ribs, his hips, scratching his back. And when the Alpha put his beer down beside his chair, Milo was pulled to stand between the man’s legs and both hands slipped under his shirt to touch his bare skin. His stomach. Up his back. Down the back of his pants…

Milo’s beer was taken from him, deposited next to the other one, so he could hug the Alpha to him. He ground himself against his mate while he got his ass squeezed and kneaded, his own fingered working the Alpha’s stiff shoulders.

“Mmm,” Davie groaned delightfully, “That feels good…”

“Yeah…”

A thick finger found his center, and pressed against his entrance without breaching him, teasing his tight hole until more oil squirted from him. Milo bit his lips together, but moaned loud and throaty, high in his through.

“I need it…” he said shakily.

“Apparently not enough for you to come within a  _ couple of minutes. _ ”

“Hmmh… Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” the Alpha’s voice was low when a finger finally pried him open. Milo suspected it was because his mate wanted to hear his needy cry. “You can make it up to me now.”

_ “Please, Alpha,” _ he pleaded. Not another word found its way to his mouth when the finger prying into him sank to the third knuckle. His body shuddered with the intrusions and he had to tangle the fabric of his mate’s shirt with his fingers to keep himself upright. He gasped softly when the digit pulled out, only to push back into his body, making his breathing ragged and shaky.

“It’s melting fast,” Davie said, but Milo didn’t have the mind to hear him.

Not when he was so busy focusing on the way his body undulated, moving along with the finger leisurely pumping in and out of his passage. He bit on his tongue, swallowing the keening cry in his throat when the Alpha pushed all the way inside of him to touch the remainder of the frozen oil, and the finger curled, rubbing directly against his prostate. Milo pushed his hips forward, again and again, pressing his hard cock and bucking into his mate as Davie kept teasing that spot inside of him which stole his breath away.

“Get your pants off,” Davie said, and Milo reacted instantly, pushing the fabric down lightning-fast, but stopped when his jeans reached his knees. He looked at the Alpha who looked back at him, perplexed. “Need help taking them off?”

Milo hesitated. “N-no, but…” his voice was a soft whisper, not to disturb the crackling fire behind him.

“But?” Davie pressed him for a proper answer.

“But… what if…” Milo bit his lip. His cock, hanging free and hard between his thighs, jutting straight out, twitched at the thought he entertained. Being found wasn’t a particular turn on, but a shiver coursed through him at the idea of being walked in on while he had Davie balls deep inside of him. He couldn’t say that, but his Alpha demanded an answer nonetheless. “W… w-what if someone comes?”

Davie smirked like a cunning fox. “Will you show them how eagerly you take me inside you? Or the face you make when I pump you full of cum?”

Milo opened his mouth to protest, but what came out wasn’t a word. The Alpha took his length in one hand and stroked the length of his cock in time with the finger tapping on his prostate. He moaned, low and guttural and oh-so depraved. “Davie…” he said, now helpless to find the words to feel even a shred of disgust in regards to his mate’s vulgarities. The front and the back at the same time was too much.

“Keep them on,” his mate conceded, “It won’t stop me from fucking you.”

The man kissed the low of his belly, then the head of his cock, and Milo’s inside gave a tremor of need. His Alpha’s tongue poked at the slit, swirled around the head, and lapped at his frenulum, forcing him to grit his teeth and curl his toes in his shoes until cramps shot up his calves to stave off an orgasm that was building much too fast for him. He couldn’t stand to remain still by the time Davie turned him over to face the fire, away from his mate.

Davie guided him down. Slowly. Milo supported the weight of his body on the Alpha’s muscled thighs. He felt the blunt tip of his mate’s thick cock pressing against his flesh. Hot, stiff length that would soon be buried inside him. Not quite finding its mark yet, but the angle was adjusted and it slipped inside.

Milo’s body opened up willingly for the intrusion. He practically swallowed his mate’s cock; he took half of it in a single, smooth downfall before it began to burn and he clenched. Knowing better Davie didn’t push him, but rather lifted him slowly and brought him back down. And again. Up and down. Up and down. Slowly. Pushing a little deeper. Up and down. Until Milo was seated in his mate’s lap, belly full of Alpha cock.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back and holding him still when his body kept trying to rock to pursue his pleasure. They both wanted to linger like this for a bit, deeply connected and feeling so good together, but Milo was a slave to his body then.

“You feel so good around me,” Davie murmured huskily, “But we don’t have to rush it.”

“I-I can’t help it… I’m so full. It’s… so good, Alpha. I need you to move,” Milo said, writhing, twisting within the man’s grasp for a sensation.

“Easy, baby,” Davie told him.

The man kissed the shell of his ear, nibbled at the lobe, scratched the length of his neck with his stubble and bit into the exposed skin at the collar of his shirt. Milo would be completely naked if only he had the certainty that no one would disturb them.

“Oh, God,” a shuddering breath escaped Milo’s mouth, “Please… Please, Alpha… My ass needs you to move.”

Davie shushed him softly, but gave in to his demands, albeit only slightly. The tight grip around his waist lessened and drove him now, showing him how to roll his hips—not that he needed showing, but he loved that his pleasure was dependent on his Alpha’s whims. He keened loud behind his lips, arching his back as his Alpha made him twirl his hips clockwise, counter-clockwise, and then front to back. He responded to his mate’s grunts with little moans of his own.

“Hold onto the chair,” Davie told him and he moved to comply. He held his weight on the arms of the chair while the Alpha gripped his hips and shuffled down a little so as to dig his heels into the ground. The first thrusts were slow, lovemaking worthy, but when it was clear that he was slicked and open, the man warned him, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

“O-okay—hnnngh!! Aaaah!” Milo only had enough time to brace his arms before his mate started pounding up into him, immediately brutal. His body instinctively fled the Alpha’s thick cock, to stand on his feet, but Davie consistently pulled him down, further adding to the savagery of his thrusts.

_ “Uhhhhuuuhhh… Uhn! Ah! Oh, f-fffuck! Alpha! D-Davie! God, fuck! Uuhn! Uhn!” _ It was impossible for Milo to hold his voice back. It hurt, and it felt good, and the pain-pleasure mounted in him quickly.

And then everything stalled.

Davie pulled him down hard and hugged his middle section, their bodies flush, cock sheathed deep inside. The man rocked on the chair, rocking the both of them, without moving inside of Milo, who whined and writhed and bucked desperately, his body screaming, pleading for the orgasm he was so close to reaching. The orgasm they were both so close to reaching.

_ “S—ssshit… Milo… Don’t squirm,” _ his Alpha growled in his ears, but it only made him needier. The sound of his mate’s voice reverberated through the man’s cock and Milo felt it vibrating against his prostate. He fought his Alpha’s grip hard.  _ “Fucking shit…  _ I’m so close, baby, but I don’t want to finish now.”

That seemed to reach him, and he sobbed helplessly, aroused and wanton. “Me neither…”

And then, something rustled in the woods. Of course, animals prowled the area freely—they were robbed of their dinner by a curious raccoon three nights ago—but these sounds were animal in nature. It was a woman. Giggling. And a man. And they were laughing, talking together, and headed straight for them.

Without thinking, Davie yanked the thick wool blanket hanging from the back of the seat, making Milo moan as he was carelessly jostled, and wrapped the fabric around them. Milo lifted his pants as high up as he could just in time for  _ Alice and Derek _ to greet them.

“There you guys are!” Alice said cheerfully.

Milo tried not to glare at the interrupting Betas.

“Hey, man,” Derek touched Davie’s shoulder and the Alpha returned his greeting in the same manner. They sat in their own camping chair with them by the fire.

“I brought marshmallows.” Derek showed off the bag.

Alice lifted four sticks. “And I found us the  _ perfect _ branches.”

Milo begrudgingly accepted his, but he also caught the woman’s knowing stare, and he couldn’t hold himself back. He glared at her. She knew. She knew what they were doing, knew why they wanted some private time alone, and yet had decided to come bother them all the same. She was doing this on purpose, he understood. On purpose! He wanted to call her out on it, but Davie murmured something in his ears that made his cock twitch and he chose to avert his eyes. “Keep squirming and I’ll fuck you right in front of them.”

Milo said nothing.

Derek and Davie made friendly conversation, chatting about the fish Derek had caught today. They talked about how they would prepare those that had been perfect to keep for eating, and then went through what food they had they could prepare to accompany fish filets.

Then, Derek said, “It’s cute how the two of you are always close like that.” and it made Milo’s face heat up. Davie only laughed it off.

“Hey, I wanna sit in your lap too!” Alice then protested.

“It’s not like I’d refuse,” Derek said, “But you never sit in my lap.”

“That’s because you always spring wood!”

Milo wanted to groan in exasperation because he was actually hard. Rock hard. And he had Davie ‘springing wood’ inside of him. He could feel it pulsing with the Alpha’s heartbeat and he had to bite back a moan of desire. He tried, he really did try hard, not to squirm, but his body kept chasing that pleasure with small movements of his hips. He tried to keep them conspicuous, however, and it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed. Anyone save for Davie.

The Alpha picked his beer off the ground for a sip while their friends kept talking. Then it disappeared under the blanket along with the rest of their bodies. Milo jerked and hissed when the still-freezing glass was pressed against the head of his cock.

“Davie!” he growled, his voice tight and full of warning. “Don’t. Do. That!”

“Don’t do what?” Alice asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh,” Davie said, pulling the bottle from under the blanket and taking another sip, “I just wanted to make sure that my beer was still cold.”

“It’s cold alright!” Milo said through clenched teeth.

Derek and Alice laughed and they fell back into idle conversations. Every now and again, when Milo’s body would finally start to settle down, Davie would hold his beer in with one hand, wait for the cold to transfer to his skin, and then slip under the blanket to stroke him back to the edge with a freezing palm. It made their company hell for Milo who waited for them to leave on their own.

One time, while he was roasting a marshmallow for himself, the Alpha bucked hard when leaving forward, making Milo moan. His perfectly roasted marshmallow had fallen to the ground then. His mate loved torturing him like this, with the hot and cold of the beer bottle, with the sudden jerks and thrusts when the man was already fully sunken inside his body, whispering obscene words in his ears to make him flush… and crave for his cock.

“Well…” Derek said as he stood and stretched. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Alice looked up at him, disappointed, and then winked at Milo who couldn’t look his friend in the eye. He loved her, but she was evil! They gathered their chairs, took their beers with them, but left the marshmallows, and then left.

They both waited, listening to their footsteps growing more and more distant, until, finally, they were certain that the Beta couple was no longer around to hear them.

Davie sighed. “That was a close—mmmphfff!”

Milo couldn’t wait. He bucked his hips hard, riding on his Alpha’s cock with a desperate need to cum. He mewled and keened and cried out his desire, begging for ‘more’ and ‘deeper’ as he insistently lifted himself up on the Alpha’s cock before slamming back down like the depraved little whore he was.

_ “S-shit, Milo!” _ the Alpha groaned behind him, grabbing his hips.

Milo’s hands went to him as he thought the man would try to stop him, but Davie did no such thing. In fact, his mate brought him down over and over again, pounding into him hard and faster, their skin slapping, his cock bouncing up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Over and over again. It didn’t take them long to find their release, with Milo’s orgasm erupting from him. He yowled his pleasure as he painfully shot one, two, three, four strings of spend into the fire.  _ “I’m cumming! Yes! Yes! Oh, God, fuck me, yes! I’m cumming! Hnnnnnghhh!!” _

Davie’s fingers dug painfully in his hips as the man’s thrusts grew into brutal jabs.  _ “Me—mmm! Me too… Cumming! Shit! O-oh… Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhh!” _

The Alpha slammed into him with his release. Once. Twice. Thrice. And one final time where he finally stopped to pour the rest of his cum deep inside Milo’s body. And they stopped, falling back into the chair, panting and wheezing, and damn with sweat. They shivered in the cooler night air as the afterglow washed over them. Davie wrapped his arms around Milo, holding him in his lap for a long time after they were finished. Until the Alpha’s cock softened enough to fall from him on its own.

They could have spent the night like this, together, by the fire. Milo was too boneless to walk, and neither of them were up for a conversation. Nevertheless, Milo followed obediently when his Alpha decided that it was time to go to bed. In their tent.

“But we’ll be all sticky in the morning if we don’t waste up now…” Milo protested softly once he was comfortably laid on his side, facing his mate’s chest where he nuzzled.

“In the morning, baby,” Davie told him. “I’ll wash you all up…”

Milo didn’t argue any more than that. His eyelids were already heavy, already drooping.

He heard Davie say something to him. Softly. Kiss his head. He mumbled something back, but sleep was already whisking him away.

And he dozed off.


	18. Day 21: Overstimulation (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW: M/M, omegaverse, knotting, overstimulation, aphrodisiac, urethral play - sounding, nipple play, erotic electrostimulation, safe words)

Zachary Schoenfeld did not regret acquiescing to taking a seat in the chair they kept in the basement, while Morgan tormented him. So there he sat with his blindfolded, with his wrists and ankles bound to the arms and legs of the chair, respectively. The goal was to tease him and rile him good and hard until he went into a rut. Not the kind brought on by the presence of an Omega in heat, but rather a rut caused by heightened arousal. Which was just about the same, but without the week-long lasting effects that usually accompanied an Omega during their heat cycle.

He did not regret his decision to go through with their scene but had he thought about this a little while longer, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so keen to continue playing with Morgan.

His Omega was ruthless. Truly. He took pleasure in torturing him, he knew at least this much. He could tell by his husband’s scent that Morgan was enjoying himself. He heard the purr reverberating from the Omega’s chest; that is when he didn’t  _ feel _ it reverberating through his cock.

_ God, that Omega does things to me… _ Zach had to bite back a moan when Morgan’s hand came to his cock. A slow, sensuous caress, soft and loving, as if the Omega worshipped his flesh. It took him every ounce of will power he had left to stop himself from bucking in his chair. He’d already cum once, completely dry with nothing to ease the friction of his mate’s hand but his own pre-cum, but Morgan had slicked his shaft with lube and coaxed him back to full hardness. Each stroke tight, wet, swirling around the swollen head of his cock with every upswing. He could hold himself still when Morgan merely pumped the shaft of his cock, but he jerked and groaned when the touch focused insistently on the head.

_ “Mngh!” _ Zach growled when Morgan seemed to pick up on this new sensitive spot. “Keep touching me there and I’ll piss on you, Morgan.” The next swipe of the Omega’s hand was deliberate, the touch lingering, squeezing, making him squirm and groan as he tried to kick. His legs were ties. So there he was, shaking and suffering in his mate’s more than capable hands.

He had mated a devil of an Omega!

And he loved the man who would break him today.

But right now, he very much hated this man who would break him today.

Morgan didn’t give him the opportunity to really enjoy his handjob; it ended before he reached orgasm. His Omega shuffled away from him, the distinct sound of socks softly swishing on the cold tile flooring his only indicator, only to return a few moments later.

Zach tensed at the  _ pop! _ of the plastic cap to the lube bottle being opened. “Morgan?” he said, “You’re not supposed to put anything in my ass.” They’d already agreed upon that.

“I’m not putting anything in your ass, Zach,” Morgan answered softly.

His cock was taken in hand again and jerked to keep him hard. Morgan thumbed at his frenulum, caressed around the edge of his crown, and then warned in a gentle whisper, barely audible, “Don’t struggle too much, Alpha.” Before Zach could ask about Morgan’s intentions, a cold metal rod, solid but rounded like a cotton swab, poked at his urethra. He gasped when it pushed inside his cock, only the head at first. It snuffed the breath out of his lungs and he lost the ability to speak. He jerked in his chair hard, testing the bonds of the ropes holding him down, and made the legs screeched as they dragged on the floor and under his weight. The inside of his cock stung as the thin pole slowly pushed deeper and deeper into him. When it stopped, finally, he kicked his head back with a guttural grunt.

“God! Fucking shit, Morgan, what the fuck!?” were the first words to escape his mouth when he found his air again. He writhed helplessly against his bindings for a moment, shuffling uncomfortably as though changing the way he sat would ease the new pressure prying him apart. He felt the urge to piss and cum both at the same time, and yet his urethra was blocked. He was stuck on that edge. “Take it out! Take it out!” he hissed.

He heard Morgan chuckle.

His discomfort turned into anger and he rocked in his chair, making the legs clack against the ground. His voice became a deep, menacing growl. “Take it out, Morgan! Right the fuck now!” But it didn’t come out.

When Morgan spoke, the Omega’s voice came from behind him. His mate had moved to come purring in his ears from behind.

“Your safewords are ‘apple’ and ‘lemon’,” Morgan told him.

Zach snarled at the audacity. Reminding him of his safewords when he’d expressed his discomfort!? His Omega was absolutely brazen with himself! And yet, for all that he suffered from the rod plugging him up, he couldn’t manage to speak his safewords out loud. He thought about them! Oh, yes. He thought about them alright. But he said nothing, and his anger slowly tapered off.

Morgan kissed the shell of his ear, licking it sensually before nuzzling against the back of it, and slowly moved downwards, leaving a trail of wet lovemarks blooming in the wake of the Omega’s affections. Kisses. Little nips and nibbles. Suckles. The lips pressing to his skin set his flesh on fire and sent jolts of electric pleasure down his spine, giving him frissons and making his balls feel so full.  _ So goddamn full. _ And he was on the verge of bursting, of shooting his load, but he couldn’t. No matter how he pushed, how he squeezed his thighs, he couldn’t cum.

Morgan moaned against the side of his throat, mouthing at the scent gland where the Omega had marked him, claimed him, bonded him, and Zach wanted to moan in response. His mate’s sultry voice was more temptation than he could handle right now.

“Do you want me to describe what your cock looks like, Alpha?” the Omega asked him. Zach could neither shake nor nod his head. He didn’t want to hear about what his cock looked like, he didn’t want that rod inside of him, but when Morgan spoke like that… in that sensual tone, full of salacious intent, he became weak and he gave in to the Omega’s whims and fancies.

The body behind him shifted, leaning heavily against his back now, and he wished he wasn’t blindfolded so that he could see what his clever mate would do to him next. Then he understood; Morgan didn’t move from his position, but reached over his shoulder and to wiggle the rod in his urethra.

“Guuuhh! Fucking—leave it!” Zach growled again. “I swear to fucking god, Morgan!” His threat was empty, and it appeared his mate knew that as well. He was tied to this chair, blindfolded, with nothing but his  _ Alpha voice _ to bend Morgan’s will. And now respectable Alpha would dare use his voice to command their mate unless it were absolutely necessary.

Morgan kept playing with the rod. “Your cock is so big, Alpha,” the Omega purred with a wanton moan. Under normal circumstances, these words would flatter Zach immensely. Morgan’s hand caressed the shaft as he spoke of it, touching the balls he addressed, “Long, thick, girthy… It’s at its biggest around the middle, and then it tapers off. A beautiful shape, my Alpha. I’ve never seen such a beautiful cock in my life. Smooth… With two veins, one really big one underneath, and the other a little bit smaller. I love how they feel on my tongue when I suck it.”

_ “Mmmm! F-ffffuck, Morgan…” _ Zach tried to bite back a moan. His legs trembled with the strain of his pointless efforts to sit still. He couldn’t sit still. He jerked and bucked and drove his cock into the tight fist gliding over his flesh. He felt like every up-down stroke would set off his orgasm, but it eluded him always.

Morgan continued, voice low and smooth, “And the head… God, it’s beautiful.” The Omega traced over the scar of his circumcision. “It’s a little dark now. You’re probably dying to cum, aren’t you?”

_ “Y-yes,” _ Zach said in a shaky breath.  _ “Please take it out—a-aah! Oh, fuck!” _

His mate pulled on the rod, easing it out of his cock torturous inch by inch. Zach gasped and his body shook. His mind went completely blank as he rolled his hips with the same broken rhythm he’d get if he was cumming, except he wasn’t. It felt as though he were. He felt everything, his semen, his piss, all rising through his urethra at once, procuring him with a painful pleasure that left him panting like an animal as he let his head fall back against his Omega.

_ “Oooooh, g-god… What the—mmm—fuck is this… shit…? Uuuhhh, yes! Yes! God! Please, Morgan!” _ Zach moaned, long and high, only for the metal pole to be pushed back in. All. The. Way. Zach yelped, and then sobbed, unable to muster even the faintest of growls.

Morgan did that over and over again. Made him feel like he was coming with each pull of the plug in his urethra. Made him feel like his balls were being filled with each push of the rod in his urethra.

“Is it amazing?” the Omega asked, teasing.

Zach couldn’t answer. He couldn’t stop the slew of slurs and whimpers escaping from him. He broke out into a cold sweat and his body shuddered with the effects of multiple near-orgasm experiences. After a few minutes, it stopped and Zach took his moment of reprieve of gratitude. However, he knew that his mate was nowhere close to being finished with him.

“Wait here,” Morgan said.

Zach would’ve scoffed if his voice wasn’t so damn hoarse, his throat parched, and his body so goddamn racked with pleasure he wasn’t allowed to enjoy. “I hate you right now…”

“I love you too, Alpha.”

The Omega kissed his cheek— _ impudent Omega! _ Zach thought then—and then moved away again. This time, Zach heard the rustling of paper, followed by a sharp, short scratching noise. He smelled fire, but before he could process it, he heard the door to the fridge opening and closing. Then some more rustling paper. And finally, his Omega returned to stand in front of him, at which point, a cap snapped. A bottle of water, he guessed. He’d guess right because, not seconds later, the rim of a bottle pressed to his lips and Morgan instructed him to tilt his head back just a little.

He drank eagerly, some of it leaking from the corners of his mouth and down his chin and neck in his desperation to sate his thirst. Morgan wasn’t as practiced as he was with the bottle, he noticed, but he could hardly chastise the Omega for that. Zach rarely sat still for his mate to play with. The bottle was discarded once he’d drank all of it.

“Good boy,” Morgan said condescendingly, stroking his cheek and scratching the underside of his chin. Zach growled; he wasn’t a dog! His mate didn’t give him the chance to speak, however, as a painfully sharp pinch clamped around both of his nipples. He hissed and Morgan hummed appreciatively.

Zach dreaded what was to come. He’d used these clamps on his mate before and he knew how well they worked.

When the first shock hit him, he jumped and howled, and then growled. It had been strong, too strong for a first shock, and by the sound of his Omega’s giggle, he assumed it was a sort of vengeance for every time he’d used these same clamps on his mate.

As he’d expected, Morgan chirped, “Payback!”

Of course…

The next time the clamps shocked him, the strength was set low, and the pulsing slow. It was merely enough to stiffen his nipples, make him shiver, and make his cock twitch. Morgan pulled on the clamps slightly, eliciting a few hisses from Zach.

“I have something else for you, my Alpha,” his Omega said then in a low seductive voice that captured him completely, entrancing him. He hoped the rod would be removed from his urethra, but when his mate touched it again, it was to push it back down, making him arch in his chair, hips rising just a little as his body went rigid, and he grunted. “Let’s see how well you take to this toy.”

“I swear to god, Morgan!” Zach started angrily, but was promptly cut off before he could finish his threat, “If you— _ hnnnnnggh! Aaah! Fuck! F-fuck! U-uuuuhhhuuhhhh!” _

The rod in his urethra came to life, vibrating fast and driving him mad with pleasure he’d not known before. He hated it. Hated it, but it kept him on a constant high of the peak of an orgasm. It didn’t stop. He moaned and thrusted his hips up, fucking into the air, cumming over and over again without rest.

_ “Uuuuuuuhhhhh! Oh, god! Fucking… s-ssshit! A-aaaaah! I’m cumming! Morgan—god, please!—make it stop! Make it s-sto—aaaaahhhh!” _

The speed at which the rod vibrated increased in time with the nipple clamps until he lost the ability to speak. His whole body became hard and the bonds at his wrists began snapping as he absent-mindedly forced them. And when his Omega started pulling back on the toy, only to start pumping it in and out, Zach gnashed his teeth and gripped the armrests of the chair, cracking the wood in his grip. He moaned and grunted and fucked the air like an animal, without the slightest thought for the rod fucking his slit.

_ In and out. _

_ In and out. _

_ In and out. _

Over and over. Zach growled and writhed in ecstasy. And then, something clicked inside of him. He smelled an Omega. And Omega in heat. Slick. He smelled slick. And his teeth itched to dig into soft flesh. The bulge at the base of his cock swelled. He snapped the ropes at his feet.

“Apple,” he said, his voice strong, commanding.

In one fluid motion, Zach snapped the ropes at his wrists and, without a single care for the blindfold, he fell onto his Omega, his mouth finding his mate’s throat and biting into it, claiming, as he pinned Morgan under him. The rod slipped from his cock and his orgasm exploded into him just as the Omega angled him just so. He came as he pushed into his mate, one powerful thrust sinking in deep as he spilled his seed already.

_ “Yes! Yes, Alpha! Fuck me!” _ Morgan croaked, the keening cries that were music to his ears, and Zach pounded his mate’s ass with every spurt of cum. One. Two. Three. Four strings, and one the fifth, he slammed his knot into his mate’s passage, sealing them together.

_ “Uuuuuuhhhhh! Fffffffuck, Alpha! D-don’t stop… fucking me!” _

But Zach was spent, and his mate’s ass gripped him like a vice, stalling any little move he tried. An Omega in heat wasn’t supposed to be  _ this _ tight, he realized.  _ But he smells so much of— _ Morgan interrupted his thought process by capturing his lips for a hungry kiss while fucking himself on his knot. Zach hissed, but the noise was swallowed by his mate’s hungry mouth. Tongues danced aggressively together. Teeth clashed. The pressure of their kiss bruised their lips. By the time they broke the kiss, they were breathless, panting hard, and Morgan jerked his cock, hand becoming a blur as it brought the Omega to his own finish.

_ “Mmmm! Uuuunffff! Yes! Yes! Ye—aaaah!” _ Morgan cried out as he erupted over his own stomach, painting his blue sweater with streaks of white. Zach watched until he was sure his mate had pulled every last drop of his release from his cock before yanking off the nipple clamps and collapsing on top of the smaller man.

He buried his face into the crook of his Omega’s neck, lapping over the severely bruised flesh he’d bitten, and sniffed hard at his mate’s scent gland. No heat, he conceded. Which… didn’t make sense because the basement reeked of slick. He pushed himself back up on his hands, removing the blindfold as he did so, and looked inquisitively at the man under him.

Heavy-lidded, bedroom eyes with a sated lusting gleaming on them, but otherwise no sign of a heat. “Are you…” He felt stupid asking considering he knew the answer. “Are you in heat?”

Morgan chuckled lightly, “No, I’m not.”

“But—“

His mate interrupted him, “It’s the candle you smell.”

Zach looked over his shoulder. He didn’t see the candle well from here, but he saw the distinct wavering glow of a flame. He sighed, thankful that his Omega hadn’t actually gone into heat, and then slumped back down onto Morgan who stroked his hair and back, and planted soft, loving kisses to his shoulders. They were stuck together like this now, or at least until his knot deflated some.

“How was it?” Morgan asked softly.

“It sucked,” he replied instantly.

Morgan laughed softly.

They fell quiet, shuffling awkwardly until they were able to spoon. And now… they waited.


	19. Day 22: Rimming (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW: M/M, Omega/Omega, omegaverse, rimming, wild heat, heat cycle, sex toys)

Milo had held his breath all throughout the phone call, and now that he hung up, it left him as a shuddering sob. Trepidation washed over him was he writhed in the infirmary’s bed, suffering the onset of what the nurse had presumed would be… a wild heat.

_ A wild heat. _

He’d only ever experienced such a thing before. That time in junior high when Aiden had gone away for the entire summer. Almost three months of never-ending hell.

Last time, Aiden’s absence had been the catalyst of his wild heat. What was it this time?

Luckily, his college saw Alphas, Betas, and Omegas of all types and without discrimination, so they were well equipped to handle a surprise heat. A Beta was well on the way to come pick him and escort him to his apartment. The one he shared with Aiden, who would meet him there as soon as the Omega could free himself of his meeting. That was the phone call. Him calling his mate.

God, he was hurting…

Without Aiden by his side, he was hurting something fierce.

The Beta couldn’t have come fast enough, it seemed. By the time he reached his apartment door, he was already feeling his cock through the jeans of his pants. The Beta had to wrestle him into his apartment and drag him to his bed so he wouldn’t practically collapse on the ground and fuck himself into a delirious stupor right there and then. Some part of him, deep inside, shoved far behind the haze of his heat, he knew he would be mortified when his lust-fever finally broke. For now, however, he was so unbelievably horny and it hurt to be unattended, alone, without his mate.

With little care for his Beta escort, he opened the front of his jeans and slipped his hand into his briefs. What he found there made his misery burn anew, his whole body ablaze with both need and shame. He was soaked. Both slick and pre. His briefs were utterly soaked—he had likely ruined the Beta’s car seat. What a shame.

He fisted his leaking cock, pumped it hard and fast despite the fabric hindering his movements. He clenched his fist. Rubbed the head when he pulled his hand to the tip before bringing his hand back down to squeeze the base of his cock. It wasn’t enough. He needed to be filled.

He writhed on top of his sheets, his clothes sticking to his sweaty body, clinging and tightening until he felt so entangled in them, he could hardly breathe. He dug his heels into the mattress and arched his back with a loud, discontented groan before his hands fumbled with the fabric constricting him. He wanted to tear his shirt off, in half, and when he heard the crackling of fabric being stretched, he thought he might do just that.

After fighting with his clothes for an undetermined period of time, he found himself on his hands and knees, naked, his face buried into his mate’s pillow, his ass pushed way up high, with three fingers already fucking in and out of him. He arched his back and twisted his hips, forcing his fingers into his passage as far as he could, but that too wasn’t nearly enough. He truly needed… an Alpha’s knot.

_ Oh, no… no, no, no, no… Come on! _ He bucked his hips desperately, trying so hard to at least quench some of his deliria before his mate came home.  _ Hurry up, Aiden! Hurry… Please… _

***~*~*~*~*~***

Milo managed to reach orgasm three times before the door to their apartment finally creaked open and a very worried Omega called out for him. Three orgasms, it seemed, did little to ease his heat. He was appropriately wild now, almost feral, and he simply couldn’t stop tormenting himself. He was jerking his cock and fucking his own hole when Aiden came into view.

Seeing his mate made his moan, a long and wanton noise pleading to be quenched. Aiden spoke to him, but he was too far gone to understand the Omega’s words. He was suffering immensely and, quite frankly, couldn’t be bothered to care for what was being said.

“H-hurry!” he said with the urgent need of an Omega in heat. He swayed his slicked ass in the air and whined. “Please, god, hurry… Ffffffuck me… F… f-fuck me, please!”

He pushed his fingers into his body again, displaying himself completely for his mate, without shame or reservation, keeping himself open for the Omega he waited on. An Omega who never seemed to come to him.  _ “A-Aiden?” _ he breathed shakily,  _ “Please… Please, Aiden… Help me…” _ He was drowning in his lust, unable to breathe or think or swallow. And Aiden was leaving him to endure his wild heat on his own.

He tried, his voice almost mute, to beg one last time,  _ “Please… Omega… My mate… Please.” _

The bed behind him dipped under a foreign weight. Trembling hands caressed the globs of his buttocks, kneading, massaging, and pushing his hand away. Milo whimpered unwillingly at first, but he conceded to letting his Omega handle him.

His legs were pulled, gently, little by little, as he was gradually flipped onto his back, his legs spread wide to fit the Omega between them. Milo kept him there, his mate, by wrapping his legs around the other man. He lifted his ass for Aiden to touch whilst he kept fisting his erection. He wore his most seductive bedroom eyes to lure his Omega to him—not that he could muster any other look—and he cried his sweetest note. He needed Aiden. Needed his mate badly.

“Milo…” Aiden’s voice was gravelly, thick with arousal.

And by god did Milo love hearing his name spoken with so much reverence. It set a tidal wave of sensation rumbling through him, going straight to his balls as he clenched around… nothing.

_ “Please, Omega… I need you.” _

His mate trailed the expanse of the flesh on the insides of his thighs, to the junction where leg-meets-body, and grazed so very close to Milo’s dick and balls, the touch fleeting. Fingers came to his puckered hole and a single digit was inserted into his body. Easy. Smooth. Exploring his passage. Aiden curled his finger at just the right spot and he let a moan roll from his chest up and out of his mouth.

_ “More! M-more, Omega! Right there! Right… nnnngh… there!” _ he moaned as his mate stroked his prostate from inside his slipper passage. Over and over again. Making him yowl with pleasure. He couldn’t jerk himself while holding onto his legs, but he leaked regardless and the inner walls of his ass quivered.

Milo bore down on that finger, yet he still needed more. He needed—

After retrieving one very wet finger from his body and wiping it dry onto the sheets, Aiden pulled his legs up, folding him at the waist, and telling him to keep a good grip of his legs while simultaneously lifting his rear for Aiden to lower himself upon. He tensed with the anticipation of a blow job, or perhaps he was looking forward to the little hickeys in the inside of his thighs, but Aiden’s mouth went to his hole, nuzzling between his slicked crease. He was kissed, nipped, and licked. He was bathed, tasted, and savoured.

His mate’s eyes lifted to meet his entranced stare, but only for a brief moment before his Omega’s tongue finally sank into him. Milo whimpered at the stretch; it felt good to be filled.

The muscle inside of his passage pumped in and out, fast thrusts with no holding back, and Milo rocked himself back on his mate’s face. He jerked his hips, grabbed at the sheets, and arch his back when he cried out again. He could tell that Aiden tongue-fucked him exactly how  _ he _ would rim his Omega. He cried, the tears running from the outer corners of his eyes down his temples and into his hairline.

_ “Yes! G-god, Omega… Ome—uuuuuuhhh!” _ Milo sobbed, his voice tapering off to lewd noises. Aiden forced the breach of his hole again and pushed a digit in alongside his tongue. A second finger was added almost immediately and he keened in pleasure, writhing over the sheets.

Pleasure mounted quickly as his mate devoured him. Sweat beaded over his forehead, heat radiated from his neck, and his breaths became shallow and rapid. Knots formed in his belly, his balls pulled up and pre-cum dribbled copiously from his cock onto his stomach. He wished he could stroke knowing that a single touch to his erection would send him over the edge.

_ In and out. _

_ In and out. _

_ In and out. _

Aiden brought him to the edge simply by playing with his ass.  _ “Oh, god, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Ffffuck, Omega, I’m cumming! I’m cum—uuuuuuuuhhhhuuuhh!” _ And he was pushed over the edge when his Omega’s fingers drilled his prostate in tandem with his tongue. His orgasm came crashing into him. Long, brutal waves of lust and need and pain crashed into him, whitening out his mind, and stealing his voice. He arched his back high as he came onto his stomach and Aiden drove him more and more until nothing came from his cock, at which point his body began convulsing with post-orgasm torture. And it didn’t stop until he released his legs and pushed his mate back so he could whimper through his afterglow.

He’d come hard with his mate there to take care of him, and it took him time to recover his brother and settle the tremors in his body long enough for him to open his eyes and sit up. It had felt so good coming like that, but it hardly eased the edge off of his heat for a few seconds. He was still quite hard.

It wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

Milo rolled over on his side so his mate could pet his back and he could bury his face back into the pillow. Into Aiden’s pillow. And he breathed the Omega’s scent deep into his lungs, etching the taste of it for a moment.

“Let me get you some water before you continue, baby,” Aiden said softly. He could tell his mate was making a conscious effort to speak gently to him. Milo nodded, agreeing to a drink that was given to him upon Aiden’s return from the kitchen. By then, however, Milo was nearly asleep.

Aiden lifted his head gently, calling out his name soothingly, and pressed the bottle to his lips. Milo didn’t drink at first, half-asleep and half-delirious, but when he felt the cold liquid, his eyes snapped wide open and he surged forward to grab the bottle and suck large, desperate gulps of it down as though he were absolutely parched. Aiden patted his hair, running his fingers through the long locks of blond hair to untangle all of the knots which were beginning to form already.

“Drink slow, baby,” Aiden said. “There’s plenty more for you.”

After finishing the bottle, Milo asked for a second which was promptly brought to him. He downed that bottle much in the same manner as the first. When he was done with this, and Aiden stood to discard the bottles, he felt a new wave of intense, mind-numbing desire kindling back to life. His eyes wide, he looked at his mate’s back.

The Omega would only be gone for a few seconds, but already Milo felt neglected. He wanted his Omega by his side. Now! He tried to get up, but his legs were like spaghetti and they threatened to give under his weight. Luckily, Aiden stepped out of the kitchen and captured him before he collapsed.

“Milo!” Aiden gasped. “Why are you up at a time like this? You have to rest!”

“Please!” Milo cried, his arms wrapped around his mate’s neck and his body going limp in the arms that held him up on his feet. “Please! I need to be bred!” Upon saying those words, a fresh gush of slick poured from his, clear fluid trickling down the inside of his legs, as if his body knew what he needed, what he wanted.

Aiden didn’t deny him and his lips were taken then and there, in a chaste kiss that turned voracious and messy. A gentle press became aggressive and rough, teeth clattered together, and tongues waged war against each other. His Omega explored his mouth, swallowing down each moan wrenched from his throat, and mingled their saliva. Milo sucked on his mate’s tongue, bit Aiden’s lips, and grabbed handfuls of his mate’s long ginger strands of hair.

They shuffled together in an awkward dance until they reached the bed. Milo was thrown down onto his back, a shudder of arousal shooting up his spine at the way Aiden dominated him now.

He waited while his Omega ruffled through the fourth drawer, on the right, of their dresser where they kept their sex toys. The Omega produced a sleeve meant to simulate an Alpha’s knot. Milo let out a moan at the mere sight of it. Purple, but thick and smooth. He needed it. He needed it shoved into his ass.

“You’re going to help me,” Aiden said and Milo nodded.

Aiden stepped back to the edge of the bed and Milo moved to meet his mate on his hands and knees. Aiden’s stare was dark, pupils large and round with lust for him—or was it merely  _ because _ of him?—and he could smell the intense desire in his Omega.

His hands went to the front of his mate’s pants, unbuttoning and unzipping to reveal the form-fitting briefs. The outline was unmistakable and Milo pressed his mouth over the fabric to lap over the cock. The scent of it, unclean and virile, made his mind swim helplessly and his mouth salivatde. The purr welling in his chest transferred through his lips and it earned him a quiet moan, just a little sound of satisfaction from his beautiful Omega. The cock stiffened until the fabric was tented taut and a small blotch of fluid soaked through at the very tip. Milo wrapped his lips around it and sucked and lapped and gathered the taste onto his mouth.

When Aiden grew impatient, the Omega pushed the fabric down, letting the cock spring free of its confines. It slapped Milo in the face, making him flinch, and his mate was immediately apologizing, but he didn’t listen. He didn’t care. And he made a show of that by taking his mate into his mouth, sheathing him to the back of his throat in one fluid motion, gagging wonderfully around the head. Two hands fisted in his hair for purchase when Aiden’s knees buckled.

_ “O-oooh… yeah, like that. Mmm…” _ Aiden praised him.

Milo bobbed his head up and down. He swallowed his cock numerous times now, and he remembered its shape by heart. He sucked hard on the upswing as if he were trying to force his mate’s cum out, and twisted his head, his tongue flat over the thick vein, whenever he reached the root. He drove Aiden towards an orgasm of his own, relishing each moan and grunt he sucked out of the Omega as he did so.

However, he never got to finish as his mate suddenly pushed him off, the seal created by the suction was released with a wet *pop!* Milo looked up, confused and affronted.

“No?” he asked.

“I want to cum inside you,” was Aiden’s answer and it sent Milo’s mind spiralling with need, his body burning a livid fever. He hungered for his mate, and his mate hungered for him.

Aiden fell on top of him and he scrambled back like prey fleeing its predator, except, he wanted to be caught and eaten. Milo made to turn himself around to present himself, just as he’d presented himself when Aiden came home, but he was held down.

“No, not from behind,” Aiden growled. “I want to see your face.”

Another dribble of slick oozed from his ass at the sound of that. And then again when Aiden rose onto his knees and pulled the knotted cocksleeve over his own cock. All while staring directly at him.

Milo’s legs were then pulled so that his feet rested over his mate’s shoulders. He could think no more, however, when Aiden lined the head of his cock and slid into him. He moaned deliriously, true relief washing over him. Aiden stopped when his ass refused the knot access to his body. They stayed there and breathed for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. Milo reached up to tangle his fingers between his Omega’s hair and sealed their lips just as Aiden began moving.

Slow at first, probably because he liked the soft mewls emanating from Milo, but when his voice recovered so of its composure, the rhythm became rough. Pounding into him. Jostling him and the bed. Making him fist the sheets and arch his back.

The angle was… perfect. His Omega’s cock consistently rubbed against his prostate and Milo couldn’t contain his voice.  _ “Uuuuuuhhhh! R-right th… there—mmmm! God, holy f-fuck, Omega… Please… harder…” _

Sweat trickled from the Omega’s forehead and down his chin, onto Milo’s bouncing cock. Leaning forward allowed the cock to reach deeper and it put less strain on Aiden to let gravity accentuate each thrust. Milo’s body went rigid. His muscles contracting and quivering and twitching. Frissons breaking out all over his flesh. He was being opened again and again, and with each brutal pump of his mate’s hips, the knot stretched his ring a little bit more until it finally slipped in.

Milo choked on his own spit as he shot one thin string of spend on his stomach and his inside squeezed around the cocksleeve’s thick girth. Because of the momentum, however, Aiden pulled his hips back and the knot followed, popping out of Milo’s body only to slam back in.

Another shot of cum sprayed over his torso.

And Aiden was cruel enough to do it again. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until Milo’s body retaliated and squeezed like a vice. When Aiden came to pull out, he gasped breathlessly.

They both orgasmed then; Milo with a shout of pleasure and Aiden with a low moan. Ripple after ripple of intense pleasure broke through to the of them, seemingly bouncing off of each other, and only amplified further. When they were both spent, the tremors in their bodies now subsiding, Aiden collapsed on top of Milo, panting, sweating, exhausted.

“Was that…” Aiden licked his lips, mouth dry, “Was it good for you?”

“It was amazing. You?” Milo said, now lucid for a short while.

Aiden scoffed and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and kissing the bondmark which joined them together as a couple. They would stay like this, the knot a constant pressure on Milo’s prostate to help him through his wild heat.

“Every time with you is amazing… Better than the last,” Aiden finally answered.

A silence fell over them and it did not help that Aiden was on top of him. So after shuffling into a more comfortable position on their side to lay, Milo said, “I think… I think I’m going to sleep a little…”

His mate kissed his neck.

“Go ahead. I’ll clean up and wake you up when dinner is ready.”


End file.
